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MAGGIE  SHAW-FULLILOVE 


Who  Was  Responsible? 


BY 
MAGGIE    SHAW-FULLILOVE. 


CINCINNATI 

PRINTED  FOR  THE  AUTHOR  BY 
THE  ABINGDON  PRESS 


Foreword 

MAGGIE  SHAW-FULLILOVE,  the  author  of  this 
story,  was  born  in  LaFayette  County,  Mississippi, 
January  27,  1884,  and  died  in  Yazoo  City,  Mississippi, 
October  30,  1918.  She  was  the  youngest  daughter 
of  Mrs.  Maria  Petty-Shaw  and  the  Rev.  D.  P. 
Shaw,  a  preacher  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church. 
Her  parents  were  ex-slaves,  without  school  advan- 
tages, but  with  such  a  passion  for  education  as  found 
fruitage  in  the  college  education  for  all  their  children. 

Maggie  Shaw  was  graduated  from  Rust  Univer- 
sity, Holly  Springs,  Mississippi,  with  the  degree  of 
A.  B.  in  the  class  of  1907.  Soon  thereafter  she  was 
married  to  Dr.  Robert  E.  Fullilove,  who  afterwards 
located  in  Yazoo  City,  Mississippi.  Three  children 
were  born  to  that  union.  A  faithful  and  devoted 
wife  and  mother,  she  nevertheless  found  time  to  give 
to  the  writing  of  short  stories  for  publication  in  news- 
papers and  magazines.  Various  stories  with  moral 
and  religious  messages,  such  as  "Sweet  Peas  Between," 
"Navy  Blue  Velvet,"  "Pass  It  On,"  'The  Making  of 
Leon  Tony,"  and  "Sermons  in  Stones"  came  rapidly 
from  her  pen.  She  never  wrote  for  mere  entertain- 
ment. She  was  a  gifted  singer  as  well  as  writer,  and 
employed  her  talents  in  the  local  church  choir.  She 


FOREWORD 

lived  a  simple,  unselfish,  useful,  and  beautiful  Chris- 
tian life,  and  was  an  inspiration  and  a  benediction  to 
all  who  knew  her. 

This  story  is  submitted  to  the  reading  public  with 
the  earnest  hope  that  it  may  do  its  bit  in  crushing  to 
the  earth  and  keeping  crushed  the  demon  rum. 

J.  BEVERLY  F.  SHAW, 
President  Central  Alabama  College. 
Birmingham,  Alabama, 
June  28,  1919. 


Preface 

I  SUBMIT  this  book  to  the  reading  public  with 
the  earnest  prayer  and  sincere  hope  that 
it  may  do  its  small  share  in  arrest- 
ing the  tide  of  demoralization 
which  some  of  the  vices  of 
society  are  spreading 
over    the   land. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


Who  Was  Responsible? 


CHAPTER  I 

A  HANDSOME,  middle-aged  man  stood  looking  out 
a  window  upon  a  street  below.  It  was  a  fair  street, 
extending  north  and  south.  The  small  but  elegant 
mansions  were  placed  each  on  its  carpet  of  verdant 
grass,  and  a  long  flight  of  steps  extended  from  every 
door  to  the  pavement.  Ornamental  trees,  the  weep- 
ing mulberry,  the  tall  maple,  so  lofty  and  bending, 
the  graceful  and  gracious  umbrella  tree,  the  old- 
fashioned  cedar,  pearshaped  and  evergreen,  grew 
thrivingly  among  brick  and  stone. 

There  were  more  streets  running  parallel  to  this 
one,  but  none  equaled  it  in  the  grandeur  of  its  aspect; 
for  most  of  the  aristocrats  and  the  wealthiest  people 
lived  on  this  street.  They  called  it  College  Street, 
so  named  because  at  the  head  of  it,  on  a  beautiful 
forty-acre  campus,  the  college  buildings  stood — a 
strong,  up-to-date  institution,  which  appealed  to  the 
best  class  of  young  people,  offering  highest  educa- 
tional as  well  as  social  advantages.  There  was  every- 
thing tending  to  the  development  of  the  ideal,  capable 
young  people.  It  was  an  ideal  institution,  and  all 
things  considered  was  as  nearly  perfect  as  the  most 
considerate  wisdom,  benevolence,  and  humanity 
could  make  it.  On  account  of  its  high  literary  and 
moral  standard,  it  shed  an  atmosphere  over  the 
whole  town,  making  it  pure  and  clean. 

7 


8  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

It  was  a  source  of  inexpressible  pleasure  to  observe 
the  almost  imperceptible  but  none-the-less  certain 
effect  wrought  by  this  institution  upon  the  entire 
community  of  the  small  town  of  Hollyville;  and  to 
note  the  general  humanizing  tastes  and  desires  it 
engendered,  the  affectionate  friendships  to  which  it 
gave  rise,  the  amount  of  vanity  and  prejudice  it  dis- 
pelled. 

Year  after  year  it  graduated  young  men  and 
women  of  exceptional  worthiness  and  capability, 
many  of  whom  made  their  homes  in  the  town  of 
Hollyville. 

All  the  citizens  of  the  town  took  great  pride  in 
making  it  ideal  in  every  respect.  The  town  was 
beautiful  and  did  not  fail  to  impress  all  strangers 
very  favorably.  Its  streets  were  kept  clean  of  filth 
and  dirt;  and  under  the  effect  of  local  option,  its 
business  center  was  free  from  saloons  and  dives 
where  young  men  are  wont  to  linger  in  indolence 
and  strife.  There  is  no  doubt  that  much  of  the 
intellectual  refinement  and  superiority  of  the  place 
was  referable  to  the  quiet  influence  of  its  institution 
of  learning.  The  resident  professors  were  gentlemen 
of  learning  and  varied  attainments,  and  were  men 
who  shed  grace  upon  and  did  honor  to  the  town. 

Near  the  end  of  College  Street  the  Drews  lived— 
John  Drew,  the  well-respected  merchant  of  good 
character,  and  Robert  Drew,  the  popular  and  much 
courted  son.  These  two  and  a  housekeeper  com- 
prised the  inhabitants  of  the  Drews'  house.  Though 
they  failed  to  rank  in  wealth  with  the  other  dwellers 
of  that  street,  they  seemed  to  be  the  most  favored. 
It  was  the  recognized  worth  of  private  character 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  9 

which  exhorted  this  homage.  John  Drew,  although 
a  man  of  limited  educational  acquirements,  adorned 
his  station  in  life,  dignified  the  mercantile  profession, 
vindicated  the  dignity  of  common  life,  and  carried  a 
large,  high,  and  noble  spirit  into  ordinary  affairs; 
made  men  recognize  something  inviolable  even  in 
common  humanity — this  was  the  power  and  attrac- 
tion of  John  Drew's  life.  Robert,  the  son,  was  a 
general  favorite  in  the  community.  Every  mother 
and  father  of  them  loved  the  young  man:  every 
mother's  son  of  them  sought  his  wholesome  com- 
panionship, while  every  fair  daughter  of  them  cast 
shy  glances  upon  his  promising,  vigorous  young 
manhood. 

It  was  John  Drew,  the  father,  who  stood  looking 
out  the  window,  as  was  mentioned  in  the  beginning 
of  the  story.  As  he  looked,  there  advanced  a  single 
passenger  on  its  farthest  extent — a  fine  young  man 
of  twenty-one,  who  hastened  forward  with  swift, 
swinging  stride,  slapping  his  left  hand  with  his  folded 
gloves,  thus  keeping  time  with  his  buoyant,  ringing 
steps.  As  he  came  nearer  he  raised  his  eyes  to  throw 
a  glance  upward  at  the  waiting  gentleman. 

4 'What  a  fine  fellow  he  is,"  thought  John  Drew, 
as  he  fondly  noted  the  broad  shoulders,  the  towering 
height,  the  fine,  strong,  clean-cut  features;  eyes 
which  flashed  the  ardor  of  youth,  a  mouth  that  was 
firm  and  strong.  John  Drew  smiled  in  satisfaction 
as  he  realized  what  a  future  was  in  store  for  his  son. 
He  loved  this  son  with  all  his  soul.  Indeed,  the  emo- 
tion seemed  more  than  love  and  was  closely  akin  to 
worship.  He  had  loved  the  boy's  mother  as  few  men 
love  their  wives,  When  she  died  in  giving  birth  to 


10  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

their  son,  at  first  he  was  crazed  and  wild  with  stub- 
born grief;  but  it  was  the  boy  who  had  brought  back 
hope  to  his  withered  heart.  It  was  the  boy,  a  tiny 
mite  of  humanity,  who  grasped  his  big  thumb  in  its 
firm  baby  fingers  and  led  him  back  to  life  and  love. 

Since  then  he  had  lived,  starved,  striven,  grappled 
with  fate  and  conquered — all  for  the  boy.  Robert's 
deep  love  and  devotion,  his  unbounded  faith  in  the 
father,  amply  repaid  all  his  parent's  efforts,  and  made 
his  paternal  love  and  pride  in  his  offspring  an  un- 
bounded joy.  In  fact,  the  son  electrified  the  father's 
world;  the  love  of  him  was  the  lightning  of  his  soul, 
illuminating  his  sky,  clarifying  the  atmosphere  of 
adversity,  making  every  task  delightful. 

Robert  paused  before  mounting  the  steps,  looked 
up  at  his  parent  with  remarkably  bright  and  singu- 
larly sympathetic  eyes;  then,  bounding  up  three  steps 
at  a  time,  he  soon  entered  the  room  where  John  Drew 
awaited  him. 

"Well,  Pater!" 

"Well,  Son!" 

It  was  a  simple  greeting,  yet  each  knew  the  full 
depth  of  the  other's  overcharged  heart.  There  was 
little  need  of  undue  demonstration  between  these 
two.  Each  understood  the  other's  eccentricity  and 
respected  it.  Robert  of  twenty-one  had  outgrown 
those  halcyon  days  of  paper  kites,  toy  boats,  and 
knee-foot  gallops  to  the  market  town.  He  had  the 
same  frank,  boyish,  open  heart,  was  altogether  ador- 
able, yet  withal  he  possessed  a  man's  interests  and 
capabilities. 

"I've  got  a  job,  father."  Robert  paused  in  order 
to  note  the  effect  of  his  words,  then  continued;  "I've 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  11 

been  employed  as  clerk  in  Morgan  &  Sons — New 
Gate." 

"New  Gate!"  The  father  gasped.  Of  all  the 
Southern  cities,  New  Gate  was  the  very  last  in 
which  he  wanted  his  son  to  reside.  It  was  a  city  in 
which  society  was  corrupt.  The  free  flow  of  alco- 
holics had  washed  away  almost  every  vestige  of 
clean,  chaste  manhood  and  even  womanhood.  Ig- 
norance and  vice  stalked  abroad  in  the  streets. 
There  was  no  law  against  drunkenness;  and  as  there 
was  no  penalty,  no  man  feared  to  get  drunk. 

John  Drew  was  disappointed — not  that  he  did 
not  want  his  son  to  work;  and  he  knew  that  this  was 
a  splendid  opportunity  for  a  man  who  had  an  inclina- 
tion toward  the  mercantile  profession — yet  he  had 
secretly  hoped  that  his  boy  might  choose  some  other 
profession.  A  position  in  Hollyville  College  would 
have  met  his  approval  sooner. 

"Pshaw!  I'm  a  whiney  old  woman,"  he  told 
himself  a  few  moments  later  as  he  sat  down  alone  to 
think  over  the  situation.  "I  need  not  hope  to  keep 
my  boy  tied  to  my  apron  strings;  yet  he  might  have 
chosen  a  more  lofty  position.  Of  course  any  occu- 
pation is  lofty  so  long  as  it  is  honorable.  But  some- 
how I've  always  pictured  the  lad  at  the  head  of  some 
institution  of  learning." 

Robert  had  graduated  from  Hollyville  College 
with  honors,  had  been  a  favorite  as  a  student,  and 
no  doubt  could  have  secured  a  good  position  in  his 
Alma  Mater.  John  Drew  strongly  disliked  the  idea 
of  Robert's  working  at  New  Gate.  No  one  knew  the 
city  and  its  history  any  better  than  he  did.  It  had  been 


12  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE? 

the  home  of  his  boyhood.  He  was  acquainted  with 
every  dive,  every  hole  and  corner,  every  ill-reputed 
public  house,  every  saloon — of  the  latter  there  were 
a  great  number.  He  could  recall  many  unpleasant 
incidents  connected  with  many  of  them.  They  had 
been  his  father's  curse,  had  come  near  being  his  own 
curse,  had  it  not  been  for  the  fact  that  Alice,  Robert's 
mother,  had  led  him  away  and  taught  him  the  value 
of  love  and  home.  He  had  shunned  New  Gate  ever 
afterwards,  as  he  would  shun  a  black  and  fathomless 
pit  which  led  to  hell. 

He  sat  there  staring  into  the  fire,  his  mind  worked 
up  into  a  sort  of  frenzy  at  the  thought  of  Robert's 
going  there  to  work — his  boy,  who  had  been  brought 
up  almost  entirely  without  any  knowledge  of  alco- 
holics. John  Drew  had  been  very  careful  about  this 
thing.  He  had  been  careful  not  to  even  warn  the 
youngster  against  it,  for  fear  that  he  might  try  it 
out  of  mere  curiosity.  Curiosity  had  been  one  of 
the  lad's  weaknesses.  He  could  recall  many  inci- 
dents of  Robert's  childhood  which  verified  this. 
John  Drew  felt  that  it  was  better  not  to  spend  too 
much  time  warning  him  against  the  evil  effects  of 
alcohol,  because  he  felt  sure  that  Robert  would  try 
it  just  to  see  if  it  would  in  truth  have  the  reputed 
effect.  And  John  Drew  feared  that  if  he  should  taste 
it  once,  he'd  taste  it  again  and  again ;  for  was  not  his 
boy  in  danger  according  to  the  law  of  heredity? 
John  Drew  shuddered.  His  anxious  mind  began  to 
picture  the  boy — his  glorious  Robert — mingling  with 
the  gay  society  of  New  Gate,  joining  in  their  sports, 
partaking  of  the  so-called  harmless  dinners,  in  which 
wine  and  even  whisky  were  served  in  abundance. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  13 

He  felt  that  he  would  rather  see  Robert  dead  than 
to  see  him  under  the  influence  of  alcohol  once. 

So  intent  was  he  in  this  line  of  unpleasant,  bitter 
thinking  that  he  did  not  hear  the  door  open,  nor  see 
the  ruddy  face  of  Robert  framed  therein,  until  the 
young  man's  "Hello,  Pater!"  aroused  him. 

"You  look  as  if  you  are  about  to  be  burned  alive, 
Pater  mine/'  said  Robert,  noticing  his  father's  hag- 
gard and  anxious  countenance.  "Come,  cheer  up! 
Does  my  going  away  affect  you  so?  I  verily  believe 
you  would  keep  me  here  in  this  little,  stuffy  town 
always.  Why,  father,  I'm  tired  meeting  the  same 
people,  doing  the  same  things  over  and  over.  There's 
nothing  to  keep  me  here  now  that  I've  finished  school. 
I  want  to  make  new  acquaintances:  I  want  to  see  the 
world." 

John  Drew  looked  at  this  full-fledged  youngling 
and  felt  it  to  be  utterly  useless  to  protest.  This 
young  man  before  him  must  go  away  and  work 
out  his  own  destiny  as  thousands  of  other  young  men 
had  done.  Controlling  himself  with  a  mighty  effort, 
John  Drew  spoke  as  bravely  as  he  could:  "You  are 
right,  my  son.  Go;  nothing  but  good  can  come  of  it, 
surely.  You  are  twenty-one  now  and  should  know 
how  to  keep  to  the  right  and  shun  the  wrong.  But 
you  will  find  New  Gate  a  different  place  from  this.  Its 
atmosphere  is  not  so  pure,  its  moral  standard  low, 
most  of  the  inhabitants  are  of  the  baser  sort." 

"I'm  going  there  to  work,  father;  not  to  loll  and 
idle  among  low-class  individuals.  I  dare  say  I'll 
have  little  time  to  be  led  from  the  path  of  rectitude; 
then — I'm  my  father's  son,  you  know!"  He  spoke 
proudly  as  he  measured  his  height  with  that  of  his 
father  and  found  himself  even  the  taller  of  the  two. 


14  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

The  father  turned,  placed  a  firm  hand  on  each  of 
the  young  man's  shoulders,  looked  deeply  and  ear- 
nestly into  the  fearless  eyes.  There  was  something 
he  was  about  to  say — some  grave  warning;  but  a 
sudden  fear  clutched  at  his  heart,  and  the  warning 
did  not  come.  If  he  had  only  known — but  of  course 
he  did  not  know,  could  not  know  what  the  coming 
years  might  have  in  store  for  Robert. 

After  that  John  Drew  forgot  his  fears  in  the  close 
companionship  of  his  son.  In  various  ways  the  son 
revealed  hidden  traits  of  character  which  delighted 
his  father's  heart.  He  was  indeed  a  son  to  be  proud 
of.  His  society  was  delightful.  He  was  brilliant  in 
speech,  possessing  a  keen  sense  of  humor  and  wit, 
which  rendered  conversation  with  him  charming. 
He  possessed  an  indomitable  courage;  and  his  moral 
principle,  his  father  believed,  would  steer  him  clear 
of  evil-doing. 

Their  few  remaining  days  together  were  mem- 
orable ones.  Arm  in  arm  the  father  and  son  strolled 
about  the  gay  lawns.  They  found  a  sort  of  boyish 
pleasure  in  going  over  the  old  haunts  and  even  re- 
newing their  old  games.  Each  knew  what  this  part- 
ing would  cost  the  other.  Robert  knew  that  he  was 
about  to  cast  a  cloud  over  his  father's  sky,  which 
had  hitherto  been  flooded  with  sunshine.  Therefore 
he  strove  to  bring  back  the  happy  years  which  they 
had  known  together.  They  even  spent  hours  throw- 
ing pebbles  into  the  little  brook  back  of  the  wood-lot. 
Once  they  found  the  battered  wheels  of  an  old  goat 
wagon.  "Useless,  outgrown  relics  of  the  past," 
thought  Robert,  ruthlessly  kicking  the  rusted  wheels 
from  the  heaps  of  discarded  rubbish.  But  to  the 
father  they  were  gold  treasures  of  a  very  happy  past, 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  15 

and  he  secretly  planned  to  return  alone  and  store 
them  away  for  safekeeping. 

That  day  came  all  too  soon  for  the  parting. 
After  Robert  had  actually  gone,  poor  John  Drew 
returned  to  his  empty  home — a  forlorn  gentleman, 
indeed.  The  old  housekeeper's  heart  was  touched 
when  she  saw  him  wandering  about  from  room  to 
room  as  if  in  search  of  someone. 

A  month  later  Robert,  sitting  at  his  desk  in 
Morgan  &  Sons,  penned  a  letter  home,  telling  of  his 
work  and  the  pleasure  he  derived  from  it.  He  had 
written  several  letters  home,  but  this  one  seemed  to 
give  his  father  more  pleasure  than  all  the  others. 

"I  feel,  dear  Pater,  that  I  am  at  last  in  the  great 
game  of  life,"  he  wrote,  "and  I  find  it  exhilarating. 
I  love  the  work.  I  have  little  time  for  anything  else. 
I  go  to  church  on  Sundays.  Now  and  then  I  visit — 
in  the  very  best  homes,  mind  you.  During  my 
leisure  hours — well,  Pater,  'Libros,  cum  mihi  est 
otium  lego';  for  when  I  do  have  a  few  leisure  hours 
and  would  perhaps  spend  them  in  idleness,  I  find 
that  'Liber  bonus  me  liberat  periculo.'  " 

John  Drew  smiled  at  the  Latin  phrases.  "The 
lad's  as  good  as  gold,"  he  thought. 

Another  time  he  wrote:  "Pater,  I  attended  my 
first  dinner  party  here.  Little,  stuffy  Hollyville  can't 
hold  a  candle  to  New  Gate  when  it  comes  to  affairs 
of  this  kind.  They  are  simply  dazzling!  The  very 
best  people  attend."  Here  followed  a  list  of  aristo- 
cratic names. 

"The  boy  is  indeed  becoming  a  factor  in  the  great 
game  of  life,"  thought  John  Drew  as  he  read  this 
letter.  With  a  mighty  effort  he  stifled  the  fear  that 


16  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

would,  in  spite  of  him,  find  a  place  in  his  heart.  He 
reasoned  within  himself  that  this  was  quite  natural 
and  proper.  "A  man  cannot  contribute  anything 
worthy  to  society  without  putting  himself  into  it, 
checking  his  fancies,  and  restraining  his  impulses. 
The  constant  appeal  to  the  intellect,  as  he  comes  in 
contact  with  learned  people,  would  serve  to  perfect 
his  manners  and  bearing  toward  other  people.  It  is 
absurd  to  suppose  that  the  young  man  would  absent 
himself  from  society.  Since  he  had  chosen  this  voca- 
tion, he  would  prove  himself  a  failure  if  he  did  not 
enter  into  it  as  a  part  of  the  world's  work,  and  not 
simply  a  means  of  getting  a  living.  A  man  should 
regard  his  business  as  a  part  of  the  world's  work,  his 
share  of  the  great  activities  that  render  society  pos- 
sible. There  would  be  greater  success  in  all  the  occu- 
pations of  life  if  men  did  not  too  often  pursue  them 
simply  for  a  livelihood,  with  no  thought  that  they 
may  contribute  directly  to  true  manhood  and  woman- 
hood. That  is  an  utterly  low  business  which  regards 
it  as  only  a  means  of  getting  a  living." 

In  this  wise  John  Drew  reasoned,  and  read  the 
account  of  Robert's  entering  into  society  with  a  rising 
degree  of  pride.  Another  time  Robert  wrote  a  letter 
in  which  he  gave  a  lengthy  description  of  one  of  New 
Gate's  fashionable  dinner  parties.  "The  young 
women  here  are  wonderful,'*  he  wrote  in  all  the  fire 
and  ardor  of  youth. 

John  Drew  sat  far  into  the  late  hours  of  that 
night,  staring  into  the  fire  and  conjuring  up  all  sorts 
of  morbid  fancies.  He  too  had  once  mingled  with 
that  class  of  young  women.  The  beautiful,  dazzling, 
thoughtless  creatures  were  but  shining  lights  to  lure, 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  17 

charm,  and  bewilder  the  green  youth — lure,  and  in 
the  end  destroy.  Of  course  there  were  some  among 
them  who  were  ideal,  good  young  women;  but  men 
rarely  chose  them — why,  he  did  not  know. 

Once  while  he  dozed  he  thought  he  saw  a  man 
walking  along  the  street;  his  shoulders  were  stooped 
and  sloven;  his  face  red  and  swollen;  his  eyes  restless 
and  bloodshot.  Over  his  head  a  row  of  burning 
letters  spelled  the  words,  "THE  CURSE."  The  fellow 
stumbled  and  fell  upon  the  pavement.  John  Drew 
thought  he  ran  to  lift  the  fallen  creature,  and  behold, 
it  was  Robert! 

John  Drew  awoke  and  spent  nearly  all  the  rest 
of  the  night  pacing  the  floor  in  restless  apprehension. 
But  the  new  day  dawned  so  lovely  and  bright  that 
he  scolded  himself  severely  for  his  unreasonable  and 
morbid  fancies.  "The  boy  is  all  right  and  I  am  the 
fool,"  he  told  himself. 


CHAPTER  II 

ON  the  evening  of  the  great  event  of  the  season,  the 
King's  banquet,  Robert  Drew  found  himself  in  a  flutter 
of  excitement  which  was  quite  an  unusual  thing  for 
him.  He  had  attended  many  a  gay  festival  in  his 
own  little  town,  all  of  which  were  simple,  innocent 
affairs  in  which  those  pure-minded  young  people 
took  great  delight.  There  was  always  soft  music 
and  dancing,  cards  and  other  simple  games.  But 
Robert  had  never  witnessed  such  an  affair  as  this 
social  event  promised  to  be.  It  was  to  be  a  ball, 
given  in  honor  of  Miss  Grace  King's  return  from 
abroad. 

Robert  was  eager  to  meet  this  Grace  King,  whose 
praise  was  upon  every  tongue.  Just  after  business 
hours  he  wrote  his  father  concerning  the  great  event, 
announcing  himself  as  one  of  the  honored  guests. 

That  night,  as  he  entered  the  banquet  hall  in 
company  with  one  of  his  new  acquaintances,  he  gave 
a  little  start  of  amazement  and  pleasure;  and  it  was 
plainly  evident  that  Raymond  King,  noted  as  he  was 
for  lavish  expenditure,  had  outdone  himself  this  time. 
The  whole  room  was  a  bower  of  roses — great,  climb- 
ing bushes,  heavy  with  blooms.  Cool,  green  ivy  hid 
the  walls  from  floor  to  ceiling,  and  were  supported 
upon  cunningly  wrought  trellises,  through  which 
hidden  lights  glowed  softly  like  fireflies.  Marble 
statuettes  gleamed  in  certain  nooks.  They  were  so 
placed  as  to  heighten  the  effect  of  space  and  to  carry 
out  the  idea  of  a  garden.  In  the  center  was  a  wide 

18 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  19 

but  shallow  stone  fountain,  on  the  surface  of  which 
large-leaved  pond  lilies  floated.  Beautiful  goldfish 
with  filmy  fins  and  tails  like  iridescent  wedding 
trains  propelled  themselves  indolently  about.  Two 
dimpled  cupids  held  a  marble  cornucopia,  out  of 
which  trickled  a  sparkling  stream  of  water.  Robert 
knew  that  the  wonderful  Miss  King  had  wrought  all 
this  lovely  arrangement  herself. 

There  was  a  flutter  of  excitement  and  many 
words  of  inquiry  as  Robert  and  his  companion  entered. 
Many  of  the  young  ladies  wanted  to  know  who  was 
the  six-foot  young  demigod  with  the  college  air. 
Robert  was  indeed  a  very  striking  figure,  rising  head 
and  shoulders  above  his  companion — the  very  im- 
personation of  clean,  healthy,  wholesome  young 
manhood.  He  was  not  long  a  member  of  the  gay 
throng  before  Miss  King  entered. 

Her  father,  whom  Robert  had  already  met,  led 
her  through  the  throng  leaning  gracefully  on  his  arm, 
and  in  a  stately,  old-fashioned  way,  introduced  her 
to  several  of  the  young  people.  Robert  was  the  last 
one  to  receive  an  introduction.  He  led  the  smiling 
young  woman  up  to  Robert,  saying:  ' 'Grace,  my 
daughter,  this  is  Robert  Drew,  son  of  John  Drew,  a 
prominent  merchant,  and  a  friend  of  my  boyhood.'* 

Robert  thought  he  had  never  seen  so  divine  a 
creature  before.  To  him  she  was  a  star,  radiating 
brilliant  rays  of  light  which  dazzled  all  who  beheld 
her.  In  fact,  he  thought  her  all  that  a  beautiful 
woman  is  said  to  be.  She  passed  on  to  another  group 
of  young  people,  but  not  without  an  open  admiring 
glance  at  Robert.  Sometime  after  that  she  even 
sought  him,  evidently  as  much  impressed  as  he. 


20  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

Robert  was  at  first  somewhat  shy  and  embarrassed, 
but  this  feeling  soon  wore  off  under  the  influence  of 
her  easy  manner  and  charming  grace.  She  was  not 
timid  or  shy  like  the  maidens  of  his  home  town: 
neither  did  he  think  her  bold — just  simply  charming 
and  very  gracious.  She  was  perfectly  at  her  ease, 
and  so  prettily  garrulous  and  confidential,  telling 
little  stories  of  her  life  abroad  and  describing  scenery 
on  some  lake.  After  she  had  babbled  sweetly  about 
fashion,  society,  balls,  receptions,  operas,  and  theaters 
for  several  minutes,  she  turned  upon  him  a  marvel- 
ously  penetrating  glance  of  her  dark  eyes,  a  glance 
which  startled  him  as  much  as  an  unexpected  flash 
of  light  might  have  done.  He  returned  her  gaze  won- 
deringly  as  -she  asked  the  perfectly  simple  little 
question,  "And  you,  what  do  you  do?  How  do  you 
amuse  yourself?" 

"M— me?"  he  stammered,  "I  work." 

"Ah,  yes.    You  are  in  your  father's  business?" 

"I  clerk  in  Morgan  &  Sons." 

"You  must  find  it  dull  and  tiresome  to  labor  all 
day.  You  ought  to  rest  sometimes.  You  must  visit 
your  friends  and  be  gay.  Don't  you  agree  with  me?" 

"Assuredly,"  said  Robert,  becoming  more  at  ease 
as  he  listened  to  her  simple,  childish  chatter.  "But 
perhaps  I  do  not  take  my  rest  precisely  like  other 
people.  I  read  a  great  deal — some  day  I  hope  to  be 
able  to  write." 

"What — books?    How  charming!" 

Here  their  conversation  was  abruptly  broken  off, 
as  Grace's  mother,  a  dignified  lady  clad  in  richest  silk, 
with  huge  diamonds  gleaming  here  and  there  upon 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  21 

her  handsome  person,  sailed  up  from  a  remote  corner 
of  the  room,  where  she  had  no  doubt  been  watching 
them  with  the  speculative  observation  of  a  match- 
making matron. 

The  room  was  soon  dinning  with  strains  of  the 
invisible  orchestra,  and  the  vocal  chatter  and  ex- 
clamations of  the  guests.  Presently  the  sound 
melted  into  the  soft,  alluring  melody  of  a  grand  old 
waltz,  and  the  dancing  began.  The  couples  floated 
over  the  floors  like  fairy  folk  in  wonderland,  so  it 
seemed  to  Robert.  He  could  dance  well,  but  was 
reluctant  to  try  his  skill  here  in  this  assembly,  where 
dancing  was  indeed  an  art.  He  said  as  much  to  Miss 
Grace,  but  that  gracious  young  lady  wouldn't  allow 
him  to  refuse. 

"Let  me  teach  you,"  she  said,  sweetly,  giving  him 
another  of  those  thrilling  glances.  He  could  feel  her 
body  tremble  as  he  took  her  in  his  arms,  and  as  they 
gently  glided  out  on  the  floor,  there  was  in  her  steps 
that  indescribable  quality  born  in  natural  dancers. 
Her  supple  body  supplied  all  the  deficiencies  of  his 
slightly  awkward  steps,  and  soon  they  were  the 
center  of  attraction. 

When  the  dance  was  over  her  eyes  were  twin 
stars,  her  cheeks  were  roses.  Her  rounded  bosom 
heaved  with  intense  excitement.  When  she  took 
her  place  at  the  table  and  from  sheer  satisfied  exu- 
berance laughed  her  dear,  trilly  little  laugh,  Robert 
said  under  his  breath:  "By  Jove!  What  a  ripping 
girl!"  Miss  Grace  did  not  fail  to  catch  the  fire  of 
admiration  in  his  eyes,  and  her  own  heart  glowed  in 
triumph,  The  diners  soon  arranged  themselves  and 


22  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE? 

the  dinner  began.  To  Robert  there  was  a  complete 
absence  of  the  stiffness  at  the  formal  banquets  of 
his  college  home.  The  moments  did  not  drag.  A 
Bohemian  spirit  prevailed.  The  ardor  of  the  men, 
encouraged  by  coquetry  and  smiles,  rose  quickly; 
wine  flowed  and  a  general  intimacy  began. 

Without  knowing  why,  Robert  could  not  enter 
into  the  prevailing  intimacy  with  Miss  Grace.  He 
thought  her  much  more  attractive  than  the  girls  of  his 
acquaintance,  and  yet  it  was  this  very  attractiveness 
and  intimacy  that  alarmed  his  inbred  social  con- 
servatism regarding  women. 

He  began  to  become  conscious  of  thinking  rapidly 
and  becoming  excited.  He  wanted  to  appear  well- 
bred  in  the  eyes  of  this  woman,  yet  drinking  intoxi- 
cants of  any  sort  was  altogether  alien  to  his  custom. 
The  exciting  tendency  increased  as  he  set  aside  the 
glass  which  had  been  filled  by  the  brilliant  woman  by 
his  side.  At  this  she  looked  up  at  him  with  large, 
soft,  serious  eyes.  He  hesitated  no  longer,  but  tip- 
ping his  glass  with  hers,  drank  to  her  health.  It  was 
Madeira  wine  of  such  exquisite  perfume  and  admirable 
flavor  that  Robert  allowed  his  glass  to  be  filled  again 
and  again.  Being  entirely  unaccustomed  to  strong 
drinks  of  any  kind,  Robert  soon  felt  a  kind  of  dizzi- 
ness about  his  head,  and  he  longed  to  get  out  in  the 
open  air.  Miss  Grace  continued  her  gay  chatter  and 
her  dazzling  smiles  until  Robert  found  himself 
mounted  as  if  on  golden  wings.  The  dizziness  gave 
place  to  hilarity  as  he  partook  of  more  wine.  His 
boyish  shyness  and  some  of  his  scrupulous  ideas  con- 
cerning women  slowly  fell  off  like  a  cloak.  In  his 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  23 

wondering  excitement  and  new  joy,  he  leaned  across 
the  table,  boldly  took  Miss  Grace's  hand  in  his,  and 
talked  freely  with  her — even  a  degree  of  flippancy 
tinged  his  speech. 

After  dinner  the  wonderful  music  began  playing 
again.  Other  couples  were  dancing,  so  he  seized  the 
yielding  body  of  Miss  Grace  in  his  arms  and  whirled 
her  away.  He  wanted  to  dance  in  this  way  con- 
tinually. He  wanted  to  float  away  out  into  the  soft, 
starlit  night  with  this  rare  creature  clasped  in  his 
arms.  No  one  knew — not  even  Miss  Grace  herself 
was  aware  of  the  rage  of  passion  that  was  racing 
through  Robert.  His  incoherent  thoughts  were  that 
he  did  not  want  to  ever  stop  dancing  with  her.  He 
had  a  mad  desire  to  kiss  her — to  devour  her — to 
strangle  her  with  love. 

When  it  was  all  over,  and  he  had  pressed  her  two 
small  hands  at  parting,  Robert  knew  that  he  loved 
Grace  King — loved  her  as  he  would  love  no  other 
woman.  He  was  no  longer  master  of  his  own  destiny: 
Miss  Grace  was  his  fate. 

The  next  morning  when  he  took  his  place  at  the 
office,  somehow  his  work  did  not  seem  quite  so  de- 
lightful as  formerly.  Amazement  was  so  deep  upon 
him  that  he  moved  about  mechanically.  Last  eve- 
ning's experience  was  so  different  from  anything  he 
had  ever  known.  He  was  fascinated,  bewildered,  and 
yet — yet  there  was  something  about  it  all  that  he 
did  not  altogether  like. 

Whenever  those  conflicting  emotions  came  over 
him,  the  face  of  Grace  King  floated  before  his  vision 
— alluring,  glorious,  and  compelling. 


24  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

Robert  became  a  frequent  visitor  at  Miss  Grace's 
home.  He  attended  more  such  brilliant  parties, 
partook  of  her  wine  and  her  smiles  with  increasing 
enjoyment,  while  she,  fair  siren,  was  more  in  love 
with  her  sense  of  triumph  over  this  "country  boy" 
than  anything  else.  She  gave  him  just  enough  en- 
couragement to  keep  him  at  her  feet,  but  never 
allowing  him  to  rise  and  claim  her  as  his  own.  There 
was  as  yet  no  love  in  her  heart:  in  his  absence  she 
could  even  find  it  in  her  heart  to  laugh  at  him, 
whereas  in  all  decency  and  conscience  it  would  have 
become  her  to  have  wept  for  the  mischief  she  had 
wrought. 


CHAPTER  III 

ONE  cold  November  evening  Robert  went  to  his 
room  somewhat  earlier  than  usual.  He  had  been 
feeling  sick  all  day.  Having  never  been  sick  in  his 
life,  it  was  quite  a  new  experience  for  him.  Every 
joint  in  his  body  ached;  he  shivered  from  head  to 
foot  as  he  went  out  of  the  warm  office  into  the  open 
street.  A  cold  rain  had  set  in,  and  the  dampness 
agonized  his  aching  joints  all  the  more. 

Since  his  lodging  was  only  a  short  distance  from 
the  office,  he  never  thought  of  hiring  a  carriage  or 
going  on  the  car,  but  hurried  on  foot  through  the 
cold,  drizzling  rain  to  his  apartments.  His  room- 
mate, a  young  man  who  worked  at  one  of  the  down- 
town saloons,  had  already  arrived,  built  a  fire,  and 
set  things  to  order.  Robert  soon  removed  his  soaked, 
uncomfortable  clothing,  stretched  himself  before  the 
fire,  and  was  tolerably  comfortable.  "Let  me  mix 
you  a  little  drink — something  hot,"  suggested  Jack. 
"Go  to  bed,  old  man;  make  yourself  comfy.  I'll 
warm  you  up  all  right — just  you  wait." 

Then  that  amiable  young  man  adroitly  prepared 
one  of  those  subtle  drinks  which  is  the  beginning  of 
the  downfall  of  so  many  young  men.  He  meant  it  as 
an  act  of  kindness,  of  course,  but  all  unconscious  of 
it,  he  was  rounding  off  the  corners  of  the  foundation 
which  had  been  so  subtly  laid  by  those  harmless 
beverages  at  the  dinner-parties.  He  was  all  but 
putting  the  finishing  touches  to  the  thing  which 
Robert's  father  lived  in  fear  of  and  dreaded  most. 

25 


26  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

Robert  drank  the  steaming  draught  without  ques- 
tion. Soon  a  sense  of  warmth  and  comfort  stole  over 
him  and  he  fell  asleep.  The  next  day  he  was  better 
and  went  back  to  his  work.  But  Robert  was  far 
from  well.  Before  noon  he  felt  that  he  must  even 
leave  the  office  again.  Mr.  Leek,  another  employee 
in  Morgan  &  Sons,  noticed  Robert's  gray,  pinched 
look  and  advised  him  to  retire  immediately. 

"You'd  better  call  in  a  physician,  Drew,"  he 
said.  "You  look  all  in." 

"I'll  be  all  right  when  I'm  tucked  in.  Jack,  my 
roommate,  is  a  capital  nurse.  He'll  bring  me  around 
with  one  of  his  curious  drinks,  I  dare  say." 

Sure  enough,  Jack  tucked  him  in  and  adminis- 
tered another  of  those  deceiving  hot  drinks  which 
soothe  for  the  time  being,  but  leave  an  indelible  trace 
of  its  poison  lurking  in  the  blood.  Robert  slept  all 
night — a  feverish,  troubled  sleep.  The  next  day  he 
was  able  to  go  to  his  work  as  usual.  He  tried  hard 
to  regain  his  old,  buoyant  spirit  for  work;  but  about 
ten  o'clock  a  violent  chill  seized  him  and  he  hastened 
once  more  to  his  room.  A  strange  sense  of  impending 
serious  illness  hung  over  him. 

"Jack,"  he  said  to  his  roommate  that  evening, 
"I  believe  I'll  write  the  Pater  to  come  over  here.  I 
owe  him  a  letter  or  two,  and  I'd  love  to  see  him  about 
now."  He  attempted  to  rise  and  procure  writing 
materials,  but  his  aching  body  cried  aloud  in  protest. 

"Oh,  hang  it!  I  believe  I'm  going  to  be  really 
ill!" 

"Let  me  call  a  physician,"  suggested  Jack. 

"Well.  No— but  I'll  tell  you  what  I  will  do— 
I'll  go  home  to-morrow!  Yes,  yes,  I'll  give  the  Pater 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  27 

a  big  surprise!"  He  was  quite  boyish  in  his  eagerness. 
That  night  he  made  arrangement  with  his  employer 
to  be  absent  a  few  days — until  he  should  recover — 
then  he  sat  down  to  write  a  little  missive  to  Miss 
Grace,  his  hand  shaking  so  that  he  could  hardly 
write  the  lines  which  that  worshiped  young  woman 
would  remember  to  her  dying  day.  It  read: 

"My  Beloved  One:  I  am  not  well  to-day — a 
foolish  chill.  Nothing  of  consequence,  I  hope.  I 
leave  to-morrow  for  home.  I  am  delighted  at  the 
prospect  of  seeing  the  Pater.  I'd  so  love  to  come  to 
you  once  before  I  go,  my  beautiful  queen,  but  I'm 
too  ill.  Farewell  till  I  return  again — all  well. 

"May  the  saints  keep  you  ever,  my  dearest  and 
best  beloved.  Yours  heart  and  soul, 

ROBERT." 

The  next  morning,  while  he  was  making  prepara- 
tion for  his  departure,  Jack  was  moved  with  com- 
passion when  he  beheld  the  ashen  look  of  the  sick 
man.  "Why,  old  sport,  you  are  really  ill.  You'd 
better  defer  that  journey."  At  Robert's  sign  of 
negation,  he  urged,  "Then  you'd  better  see  a  phy- 
sician before  you  go.  We'll  have  ample  time." 

"Oh,  bother  a  physician!"  Robert  said  impa- 
tiently. "He  will  only  advise  me  to  go  to  bed;  keep 
quiet;  take  nasty  medicine.  I'm  all  right — only  I 
do  seem  so  chilly." 

"Well,  suppose  we  go  by  Croggs's  and  get  you  a 
bottle  of  spirits.  It'll  brace  you  up  as  nothing  else 
will.  Come — what  do  you  say?  It  will  warm  you 
up  in  a  jiffy,  old  man;  come.  Try  it." 


2S  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

Robert  consented — anything  to  give  warmth  to 
his  icy  spine.  He  felt  so  wretched  and  ill  at  that 
moment  that  he  was  willing  to  submit  to  anything 
which  would  enable  him  to  make  the  journey.  He 
was  struck  with  a  mad  desire  to  go  home.  He  longed 
to  feel  his  father's  hand — strong,  yet  tender  as  a 
mother's — soothing  his  fevered  brow.  He  wanted  his 
father  more  than  anything  else  on  earth — more  than 
he  wanted  Miss  Grace  even.  When  they  entered  the 
saloon  his  body  shook  with  a  chilliness  which  he  was 
unable  to  conceal. 

The  keeper,  Croggs,  a  shrewd  little  fellow  with  a 
narrow,  keen  eye  to  business,  began  to  urge  him  to 
take  a  drink.  "See  how  this  one  glassful  will  warm 
you  up,"  he  said,  pouring  out  a  small  tumblerful. 
Robert  made  a  faint  sign  of  rejection,  at  which  the 
keeper  urged  the  more  strongly.  "Goodness  knows, 
you  need  it  this  raw  morning.  Drink!" 

Robert  laughed  a  trifle  nervously,  and  his  hand 
trembjed  as  he  raised  the  glass  to  his  lips.  Slowly 
tilting  the  glass,  he  tasted  the  liquor.  Why,  it  was 
delicious  to  his  palate,  exquisitely  fine  and  delicate! 
In  his  pleasurable  amazement,  he  drank  half  the 
tumblerful,  readily  growing  conscious  of  an  inde- 
scribably delightful  sense  of  restorative.  Warmth 
and  comfort  pervaded  his  whole  system. 

"Why,  the  stuff  is  excellent!"  he  cried,  and  with- 
out taking  more  thought  as  to  what  he  was  doing, 
he  finished  the  whole  draught.  Robert  had  never 
given  alcoholics  a  serious  thought.  Since  his  coming 
to  New  Gate  he  had  made  no  special  effort  to  steer 
clear  of  its  evil  influence;  besides  the  thought  of  his 
own  danger  to  drunkenness  never  entered  his  mind. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  29 

His  father  had  never  warned  him  against  it — why 
should  he  give  it  serious  thought? 

The  stuff  was  fine,  bracing!  Robert  purchased  a 
whole  bottleful.  When  he  was  comfortably  settled 
on  the  train,  he  drank  more  with  increasing  avidity. 
Previous  to  taking  it  he  had  been  cold  and  shivering, 
but  now  he  was  thoroughly  warm,  agreeably  languid, 
and  a  trifle  sleepy.  "The  stuff  has  no  equal  when  it 
conies  to  its  medicinal  properties,"  he  said  drowsily. 
The  rumble  and  roar  of  the  shrieking  locomotive 
seemed  afar  off  like  sounds  in  a  dream.  He  was  in 
that  hazy  condition  of  mind  common  to  certain 
phases  of  intoxication  when  the  drunkard  is  apt  to 
believe  he  is  thinking,  though  really  no  compre- 
hensible thought  is  possible  to  his  stupefied  brain. 

It  was  pitch  dark  when  he  reached  Hollyville. 
He  got  up  slowly,  walked — or  reeled — out  of  the  car. 
When  he  reached  the  street,  he  found  himself  exposed 
to  a  furious  rain  which  poured  down  incessantly. 

Robert  had  advanced  down  an  obscure  street  only  a 
little  way — stumbling  weakly — when  he  fell.  Strange, 
incoherent  sentences  coursed  off  his  lips  with  im- 
petuous rapidity.  His  voice  had  a  strange,  piteous 
pathos  in  it.  Robert  was  drunk! 

The  cold  rain  continued  for  some  time.  Finally 
the  wind  shifted  and  became  a  colder  north  wind, 
freezing  the  rain  into  sleet.  It  fell  upon  the  pitiful 
figure  of  the  young  man  lying  there  huddled  in  an 
insensible  heap.  He  lay  stunned  for  a  few  minutes, 
until  brought  back  to  consciousness  by  the  cold 
sleet  pelting  his  face.  With  a  desperate  effort  he 
started  upright  and  gazed  wildly  around.  He  could 


30  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE? 

not  make  out  his  surroundings;  neither  did  he  realize 
the  fact  that  he  lay  in  a  slough — a  concoction  of  mud 
and  liquid  filth. 

The  darkness  was  intense.  He  looked  upward 
and  discerned  no  sky,  not  even  an  unfathomable 
void,  but  only  a  black  and  impenetrable  nothingness, 
as  though  heaven  and  all  its  lights  had  been  blotted 
from  the  system  of  the  universe. 

Mumbling  and  whining,  he  dropped  his  head 
upon  his  arm,  half  buried  in  the  cold  mud.  A  stony 
weight  lay  behind  his  temples,  cold  and  hard  and 
heavy.  He  tried  to  think  and  found  it  impossible. 
With  an  incoherent  outburst,  which  he  himself 
scarcely  heard,  he  sank  into  unconsciousness  again. 

He  had  lain  thus  about  half  an  hour  when  the 
solitary  figure  of  a  bent  old  man  passed  along  the 
street,  carrying  a  tin  lantern  which  cast  a  circular 
pattern  of  its  punched  holes  on  the  ground  about 
him  as  he  went  along.  Luckily  for  Robert  that  this 
old  man  happened  to  come  along  that  street  at  that 
particular  moment,  for  the  cold  wind  and  muddy 
filth  had  chilled  all  his  body  save  one  lukewarm  spot, 
which  death's  frozen  fingers  were  searching  for  even 
then.  Happily,  too,  that  the  yellow  disk  of  light 
reached  wide  enough  round  so  as  to  show  the  awful 
sight  to  the  dim,  old  eyes  of  the  man.  He  saw,  and 
let  out  a  yell  which  brought  two  other  men  to  the 
spot.  Together  they  picked  up  the  body,  searched 
for  signs  of  life,  and  finding  none,  were  about  to 
drop  the  body  and  flee  when  a  policeman  appeared. 
After  the  old  man  had  told  all  that  he  knew  concern- 
ing the  tragedy,  the  policeman  held  the  light  so  that 
its  rays  fell  full  on  the  young  man's  face.  With  a 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  31 

mutual  cry  they  all  started  forward,  searching  the 
face  of  the  man  on  the  ground. 

"Robert  Drew,  as  I'm  alive!" 

"But  it  can't  be,"  said  the  old  man  who  found 
him.  They  looked  again.  Robert  Drew  it  proved 
to  be — but  in  what  a  plight!  They  thought  it  a  case 
of  robbery,  never  connecting  the  young  man  with 
drunkenness. 

The  policeman  then  searched  the  body  for  signs 
of  violence.  In  the  search  he  found  the  whisky  bottle, 
emptied  of  two  thirds  its  contents.  Then  he  knew. 
To  make  sure,  he  bent  over  the  young  man — down 
close  to  his  frozen  lips.  The  unmistakable  odor  clung 
to  them. 

Silently  the  men  lifted  the  half  frozen  body  and 
bpre  it  away.  The  policeman  swore  an  oath  and 
spat  on  the  sidewalk. 

Down  College  Street  they  turned — on  toward  the 
Drews'  residence.  Once  one  of  the  men  sneered: 
"It's  whisky  and  women  that  has  brought  young 
Drew  to  this.  I  knew  it  would  come  soon  or  late — 
a  chip  off  the  old  block." 

"Shut  up!"  thundered  the  old  man  who  carried 
the  lantern.  "If  you  say  aught  against  John  Drew's 
son,  I'll  wallup  the  life  out  o'  yer!  There's  something 
else  back  of  this.  I  know  the  boy  and  his  father, 


The  little  sitting-room  in  the  Drews'  home  was 
comfortable  on  this  wild,  wintry  night.  The  faith- 
ful old  housekeeper  had  been  asleep  fully  two  hours. 
Nobody  knew  just  when  John  Drew  was  accustomed 


32  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

to  retire — indeed,  the  housekeeper  had  her  sus- 
picions as  to  whether  he  retired  at  all  some  nights. 
It  seemed  to  be  his  delight  to  sit  musing  by  the  fire 
far  into  the  night.  At  times  he  seemed  particularly 
lonely.  She  knew  in  what  direction  his  longing  lay. 
She  missed  the  lad  herself.  The  first  days  after  his 
absence  she  couldn't  help  but  wander  about  the 
rooms,  and  her  motherly  old  heart  always  warmed  at 
the  sight  of  any  article  that  belonged  to  him. 

"Such  a  dear,  big-hearted  lad  he  is,  and  I  miss  his 
jolly  ways,"  she  said.  "Pity  his  mother  was  not 
here  to  see  how  capable  he  looked  as  he  marched 
away  from  the  old  homestead  that  mornin',  out  into 
the  world  to  scratch  for  himself." 

To-night  old  Janet  had  retired  early  and  was  fast 
asleep  when  John  Drew  came  home.  Replenishing 
the  fire,  he  settled  himself  for  his  accustomed  reverie. 
A  sense  of  peace  stole  over  him  as  he  warmed  him- 
self and  listened  to  the  chilly  winds  outside.  The 
firelight  shed  an  appropriate  glory  around  the  room. 
It  seemed  to  caress  his  hair,  now  showing  the  first 
signs  of  old  age.  By  now  he  had  grown  somewhat 
accustomed  to  the  longing  in  his  heart,  and  had 
settled  himself  for  the  task  of  making  a  last  desperate 
effort  in  the  strenuous  but  not  unpleasant  task  of 
making  money  and  saving  it  against  his  son's  wed- 
ding day.  He  planned  to  make  that  dowry  as  gracious 
as  possible.  His  days  were  full  of  hard  work,  but  he 
cared  not,  so  long  as  he  was  successful.  Each  day's 
end  was  always  crowned  by  the  sweetest  of  all — the 
hours  of  cheerful  musing  and  pleasant  memories  that 
he  spent  by  his  fireside.  Always  his  fancies  could 
create  some  bright  dream  of  happiness  for  his  son 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  33 

and  his  wife  and  little  children.  For  himself  he 
wanted  little — just  peace  and  quiet  for  his  old  age. 

So  in  these  chaste  and  warm  affections,  humble 
wishes,  and  honest  toil  for  some  useful  end,  he  found 
health  for  his  mind  and  quiet  for  his  heart,  the  pros- 
pect of  happy  old  age,  and,  fairest  hope  of  all — the 
hope  of  heaven. 

As  the  clock  struck  twelve  he  entered  into  a  sort 
of  doze.  Slowly  the  figures  in  the  room  grew  indis- 
tinct, fading  into  pictures  in  the  air,  and  then  to 
fainter  outlines,  while  the  firelight  glimmered  on  the 
walls  of  the  room,  bringing  to  relief  strange  shadows 
which  took  the  shape  of  evil,  mocking  demons. 

O  the  slight  tissue  of  his  dreams  could  no  more 
preserve  him  from  the  stern  approach  of  misfortune 
than  a  robe  of  cobweb  could  repel  the  wintry  blast 
outside! 

Suddenly  he  felt  a  chilliness — not  of  the  body, 
but  a  strange  shivering,  a  foolish  dread  of  looking 
behind  him.  It  was  no  wonder;  for  at  that  moment 
he  heard  the  tread  of  many  feet  mounting  his  front 
steps.  When  the  doorbell  rang  it  sent  a  chill  of 
apprehensive  horror  to  his  soul.  With  a  mighty 
force  he  took  hold  of  himself. 

"Fool  that  I  am!  to  shrink  like  a  haunted  criminal 
because  someone  rings  my  doorbell  at  midnight! 
Perhaps  it's  Robert — come  on  the  eleven-thirty!" 
The  thought  lent  wings  to  his  feet.  In  a  moment  he 
had  opened  the  door.  A  broad  smile  of  welcome  was 
on  his  face.  But  it  was  upon  the  visage  of  old  Josiah 
Brown  that  his  benevolent  smile  was  cast.  John 
Drew,  quickly  recovering  his  shock  of  disappointment, 
opened  the  door  wider  in  order  that  his  late  visitor 


34  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

might  enter  out  of  the  cold  and  bitter  night.  As  he 
did  so  he  caught  sight  of  the  silent  procession  which 
stood  under  the  shelter  of  his  veranda.  A  stream 
of  light  fell  upon  a  limp  object  which  they  held 
among  them.  It  took  the  shape  of  a  man — dead 
perhaps;  or  severely  wounded.  "It  is  someone  in 
trouble  seeking  shelter  at  the  nearest  residence," 
thought  John  Drew. 

"We'd  better  hurry,  or  the  young  man  might 
peg  out.  He's  half  frozen,"  sounded  a  gruff  voice. 
Old  Josiah  Brown  stammered  out  something  about 
Mr.  Robert  and  an  accident,  while  the  men  pro- 
ceeded to  pass  into  the  hall.  Still  the  poor  father 
did  not  know,  and  stood  looking  at  them  like  one  in 
a  dream  might  gaze  upon  a  passing  spectral  vision. 

That  man  which  they  carried  was  like  Robert! 
Yet  it  could  not  be — unless  he  had  met  with  some 
accident  on  the  way  home.  Half  crazed  with  appre- 
hension, he  snatched  the  hat  away  which  covered 
the  face.  Robert!  What  did  it  mean? 

Old  Josiah,  seeing  John  Drew's  miserable  state, 
caught  him  by  the  arm,  saying:  "Don't  you  under- 
stand? There's  been  an  accident  of  some  kind — 
robbery  perhaps.  Mr.  Robert  was  found  on  Subway 
Street,  in  a  gutter — unconscious.  He  had  been  lying 
there  for  some  time,  sir,  for  he  was  well-nigh  froze 
to  death  when  I  found  'im,  sir.  Better  call  in  a 
medicine  man  't  once't,  sir." 

John  Drew  darted  over  to  the  body,  which  lay 
smoking  by  the  hearth  as  the  warmth  began  to  melt 
the  sleet  on  the  frozen  clothing. 

Down  on  his  knees  went  John  Drew,  and  began 
to  remove  the  wet,  muddy  garments,  then  to  rub 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  35 

the  frozen  limbs  of  his  son,  Vigorously  and  in  a  sort 
of  frenzy  he  applied  himself  to  his  task. 

Once  as  he  bent  his  ear  to  the  young  man's  breast 
he  thought  he  caught  the  faint  odor  of — no,  no,  it 
couldn't  be  that — and  he  worked  the  harder. 

Old  Janet,  now  thoroughly  aroused  by  the  noise 
and  strange  occurrences,  fetched  warm  blankets,  clean 
linen,  and  soon  Robert  was  wrapped  from  head  to 
foot. 

When  Robert  did  open  his  eyes  he  looked  up  at 
the  face  above  him — looked  long,  as  if  his  dazed 
brain  could  not  grasp  the  situation.  Then  a  glorious 
light  leaped  into  his  eyes.  He  smiled  and  whispered, 
"Pater!"  Then  again,  "I'm  sick— sick,  Pater." 
The  warm  fire  seemed  to  make  him  worse.  His 
stomach  seemed  as  if  it  would  turn  wrong-side  out. 
He  began  to  heave.  Just  then  the  doctor  entered. 
He  went  over  to  where  the  young  man  lay,  a  look  of 
incredulity  on  his  face  when  he  saw  who  the  patient 
was.  His  skilled  nostrils  detected  the  strong  odor 
which  filled  the  room. 

"Whisky!"  he  exclaimed  under  his  breath.  The 
policeman  smiled. 

"Robert,"  said  the  father,  coming  forward,  "tell 
Doctor  Morris  what  has  happened." 

While  he  bent  over  Robert,  he  smelled  the  odor 
of  whisky,  too,  but  attributed  its  presence  to  any  of 
the  others,  never  thinking  of  Robert  as  its  possible 
origin.  The  young  man  attempted  to  speak,  but  a 
paroxysm  of  coughing  seized  him  and  he  grasped  his 
side  in  an  agony  of  pain. 

"Don't  try  it  now,"  said  the  kind  doctor.  "There 
is  a  mystery  here,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  policeman. 


36  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

"Not  much  as  I  can  see,"  said  that  person  ad- 
dressed. "I  was  present  when  the  young  man  was 
found.  He's  simply  drunk!  Look  in  his  coat  pocket 
and  see  the  empty  bottle." 

"Robert  drunk!  You  lie!"  It  came  from  John 
Drew,  who  had  been  listening  in  amazement  to  the 
dialogue  which  was  being  carried  on  by  these  two. 
"Never!"  he  cried  vehemently,  as  with  one  powerful 
stroke  he  cleared  the  space  around  his  son,  and  bent 
to  search  the  muddy  garments  himself.  In  one  of 
the  pockets  his  trembling  hand  came  in  contact  with 
something  hard — a  bottle !  He  drew  it  out,  trembling 
all  over  as  he  held  it  to  the  light.  It  was  two  thirds 
empty! 

"O  God!"  The  cry  was  like  the  last  exclamation 
wrung  from  a  creature  on  the  inquisition  rack  of 
torture.  It  was  terrible!  The  men  who  heard  it 
were  chilled  by  that  awful,  despairing  cry. 

Gasping  for  articulate  speech,  a  wild  imprecation 
left  John  Drew's  lips  without  his  realizing  his  own 
utterance.  He  was  giddy  and  faint;  his  temples 
throbbed  heavily;  the  blood  rushed  to  his  brain — 
the  table,  the  chairs,  the  bed  on  which  his  son  lay 
rushed  round  and  round  in  dark,  whirling  rings. 
All  at  once  his  throat  filled  with  a  cold  suffocation; 
tears  flooded  his  eyes,  and  he  broke  into  a  loud  sob  of 
fiercest  agony  as  he  fell  upon  his  knees  beside  the  bed. 

Robert  gazed  from  one  to  the  other  in  mute 
wonder — not  able  to  comprehend  anything  at  all. 
Surely  he  was  not  going  to  die — yet  he  felt  very 
ill — worse  than  he  had  ever  felt  before.  That  must 
be  the  case;  the  doctor  must  have  told  the  pater  that 
he  was  going  to  die,  or  he  wouldn't  act  like  that. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  37 

The  pain  in  his  side  was  terrible.  How  he  wanted 
to  rise  and  comfort  his  father!  but  he  could  not  talk 
for  coughing. 

"F-father,"  at  last  he  managed  to  whisper, 
"don't  grieve  so." 

"How  can  you  ask  me  not  to  grieve  after  seeing 
you  lying  before  me  as  you  are — drunk!  Ah!  I'd 
rather  they  tell  me  that  you  are  dying!" 

"Am  I  not  going  to  die,  father?  What  have  they 
told  you?" 

"Son!"  exclaimed  the  father,  a  faint  hope  enter- 
ing his  breast,  "tell  them  they  lie!  Tell  them  you 
have  not  been  drinking  this!"  He  held  up  the  bottle 
in  pitiful,  shaking  hands. 

Robert  looked  at  it,  then  said:  "Why,  yes,  Pater, 
I  drank  all  but  what  you  see  in  the  bottle.  I — I  was 
so  chilly  and  wretched — and — and  the  stuff  is  fine 
for  medical  uses."  Robert  spoke  with  great  effort. 

"But,  my  son,  you  knew  the  effects  of  alcohol — 
what  a  base  deceiver  it  is!  You  read  that  in  your 
books." 

"But,  father,  I — I'm  no  habitual — drunk-ard! 
This  is  the  first — I've  ever  tak-en.  I  find  it  great 
for  that  purpose." 

The  father  groaned  aloud.  "My  God!  I  should 
have  warned  my  boy — my  innocent,  unsuspecting 
boy!" 

"I — I'm  so — sorry  I  drank  it — father,  since  it 
grieves  you  s-so.  I  am  sure  I  shall  never  touch  it 
again — no,  never — if  it  pains  you — so."  He  writhed 
in  the  terrible  pain  which  grasped  him.  A  fit  of 
violent  coughing  seized  him  again.  The  doctor 
advised  absolute  quiet:  the  policeman  withdrew. 


38  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

For  three  days  Robert  was  very  near  death's 
door,  but  on  the  fourth  day  was  better — a  fact  which 
delighted  his  father's  soul.  He  rarely  ever  left  the 
bedside,  and  the  strong  affection  between  these  two 
was  beautiful  to  see.  The  faithful  old  housekeeper 
also  hovered  over  her  "blessed  young  man"  like  a 
mother  hen  hovers  over  her  brood.  In  about  a  week 
Robert  began  to  convalesce. 

One  night  about  eleven  o'clock  Robert  suddenly 
awoke  out  of  a  troubled  sleep,  in  which  he  dreamed 
that  he  was  seized  with  a  great  thirst  and  had  drunk 
gallon  after  gallon  of  water  without  allaying  that 
thirst.  The  fire  burned  low  in  the  grate;  the  wind 
outside  whistled  frigidly.  Robert,  shivering,  drew 
his  warm  blankets  about  him.  Suddenly  he  realized 
that  he  was  in  truth  very  thirsty.  Not  wishing  to 
disturb  anyone,  he  slipped  quietly  out  of  bed,  went 
over  to  the  little  table  across  the  room  in  hopes  of 
finding  a  drink.  Janet  always  kept  a  pitcherful  of 
fresh  water  on  the  table;  but  to-night  it  was  empty. 
He  was  about  to  scamper  back  to  his  bed  when  he 
spied  the  v/hisky  bottle  standing  among  the  vials  of 
medicine.  What  cruel  fate  had  made  Janet  place  it 
there  when  she  should  have  hurled  it  out  of  the  window? 
The  invalid  stood  looking  at  this  bottle  in  wonder ; 
for  it  was  liquor  he  craved — not  water.  An  almost 
uncontrollable  longing  for  it  filled  his  throat.  He 
wanted  to  feel  its  delicious  fire  on  his  palate. 

"I'll  just  taste  it,"  he  said,  uncorking  the  bottle. 
It  had  a  delicious  odor,  which  the  young  man  liked 
immensely.  He  glanced  guiltily  toward  the  door, 
then  took  one  draught,  smacked  his  lips,  then  took 
another.  This  time  he  emptied  the  bottle. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  39 

Like  a  guilty  rogue  he  slunk  back  to  bed.  Again 
that  mysterious,  delightful  sensation  fused  his  brain. 
He  felt  jolly;  and  he  wanted  to  laugh,  laugh,  laugh — 
and  talk!  The  world  seemed  full  of  dreamy  fancies. 
His  thoughts  turned  to  Miss  Grace.  A  mighty  pas- 
sion sent  feverish  blood  coursing  through  his  veins. 
He  thought  of  her  in  dumb,  rapt  ecstasy  while  she, 
fair  siren  in  white  robes  with  bosom  full  and  bare — 
she  with  her  wicked,  laughing  eyes  and  jewel-wreathed 
tresses  and  sensuous  shape,  was  beautiful  wanton 
enough  for  Robert's  eyes.  She  seemed  to  float  about 
him  in  lambent  wreaths  of  exquisitely  brilliant  colors. 

O !  A  most  wretched  evil  is  alcohol,  for  its  greatest 
mission  is  that  of  transforming  pure,  chaste  ideals, 
true  felicities,  into  voluptuous  thinking  and  sensuous 
longing.  It  distorts  and  renders  hideous  that  which 
is  the  best,  the  holiest — the  sublime  crucible  in  which 
is  consummated  the  fusion  of  man  and  woman — 
love.  It  makes  men  drink  and  dream,  dance  and 
caper  in  a  fool's  paradise.  It  encourages  writers  and 
dramatists  to  pen  obscenities,  the  painter  to  paint 
repulsive  nudities.  It  causes  the  public  man  to  talk 
loud  inanities.  It  makes  women  practice  wanton 
wiles. 

All  of  a  sudden  Robert's  foolish  brain  formed  the 
cunning  idea  of  hiding  the  empty  bottle.  He  must 
not  leave  it  where  the  Pater  or  Janet  would  find  it 
empty.  This  would  never  do,  for  that  would  destroy 
all  hopes  of  securing  more  of  the  stimulant.  "I 
must  hide  it — hide  it,"  he  kept  repeating,  foolishly. 
He  staggered  to  the  table,  seized  the  bottle  and 
raised  it  to  his  lips  in  order  to  get  the  few  remaining 
drops  of  the  precious  liquid.  Then  he  crept  back  to 


40  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

his  bed.  That  subtle  flavor  clung  to  his  palate — 
that  insidious  fluid  had  already  crept  drop  by  drop 
through  his  veins. 

There  had  been  a  slow  but  sure  transfusion  of  the 
strange  and  deadly  fire  into  his  blood,  which  once 
absorbed,  must  cling  to  him  forever.  The  draught 
to-night  had  given  the  devil  time  to  finish  his  work, 
which  had  its  beginning  in  the  first  glass  of  wine 
taken  at  that  high-class  social  entertainment,  the 
Kings'  banquet.  It  had  given  the  devil  time  to 
finish  his  work  of  consuming  virtue,  conjuring  up 
vice,  and  turning  an  honest  man  into  a  liar,  a  feeling 
heart  to  stone,  and  making  of  a  man  a  fiend! 

Robert's  desire  to  talk  aloud  was  replaced  by  the 
cunning  idea  of  secrecy.  He  tucked  his  head  under 
the  covers  and  delighted  in  his  wild,  delirious  thoughts 
of  Miss  Grace.  This  fantastic  dreaming  continued 
for  some  time;  but  finally  he  dropped  into  a  troubled 
sleep,  and  the  next  morning  awoke  quite  depressed 
and  languid.  He  attributed  this  feeling  to  his  need 
of  more  alcoholic  stimulant,  and  later  in  the  day 
began  to  formulate  plans  which  would  enable  him  to 
procure  more  without  anyone's  knowledge.  Before 
night  he  had  that  plan  all  cunningly  laid,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  send  an  order  to  Croggs.  The  faithful  old 
Janet  had  never  questioned  anything  Robert  did,  so 
he  knew  that  he  could  give  her  the  letter  to  post, 
with  the  assurance  that  the  dear  old  soul  would  not 
stop  until  she  had  carried  out  his  orders. 

Early  that  night  he  said  to  his  father:  "Go, 
Pater — get  some  rest.  I'm  all  right  now,  and  shall 
be  strong  and  well  in  a  day  or  so."  His  father  tucked 
him  in  with  unusually  tender  hands,  and  before  he 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  41 

left,  dropped  on  his  knees  beside  the  bed,  evoking 
the  mercies  of  heaven  for  grace  which  alone  could 
sustain  in  keeping  his  son  from  the  evil  influence  of 
whisky.  Robert  was  deeply  touched.  The  sight  of 
his  father's  bowed  head  in  prayer  for  his  safety 
caused  Robert's  heart  to  melt  down  in  remorse,  and 
a  great  tenderness  and  love  filled  his  soul  for  his  only 
parent,  who  had  been  both  mother  and  father  to 
him.  This  sweet  influence  dwelt  with  him  and  kept 
him  from  making  his  order  that  night. 

The  next  morning  he  awoke  with  the  same  feeling 
of  excessive  thirst.  It  was  the  fatal  thirst  for  whisky! 
He  took  the  empty  bottle  from  its  hiding  place,  and 
the  delicate  whiff  of  odor  intensified  his  longing, 
hardening  the  tender  fibers  of  his  heart  once  more. 
Robert  made  up  his  mind  to  make  just  one  order, 
believing  that  as  soon  as  he  should  become  strong 
and  well  he  could  abjure  the  passion  without  diffi- 
culty. He  reasoned  that  on  account  of  his  excessive 
weakness  and  nervousness,  he  needed  support  in  the 
form  of  a  stimulant. 

Robert  was  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  the  moral 
power  of  resistance  decreases  with  each  repetition  of 
the  dose.  He  conjured  himself  into  believing  that 
his  father's  idea  concerning  alcohol  was  largely 
prejudice.  He,  Robert,  could  prove  that  he  could 
take  it  as  a  medicine  and  when  he  no  longer  needed 
it,  he  could  easily  let  it  alone. 

It  was  a  fine  morning.  The  air  outside  was  cold 
and  bracing.  The  naked  trees  stood  grim  and  tall 
and  unbending  in  the  sunlight.  A  few  stray  birds 
twittered  near  Robert's  window.  These  same  birds 
had  visited  his  window  many  a  time,  and  always 


42  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

had  their  boldness  rewarded  by  generous  supplies  of 
crumbs  and  clean,  sweet  chops.  But  this  morning 
they  twittered  in  vain.  A  shaft  of  sunlight  streamed 
clear  across  Robert's  room.  It  revealed  and  illumined 
millions  of  tiny  particles  of  matter.  How  often  had 
Robert  as  a  child  lain  awake  for  hours  watching  this 
same  shaft  of  light,  so  wonderfully  peopled  with 
mysterious  little  bodies,  which  frolicked — pitching 
headlong,  turning  over  and  over  in  the  sunlight,  then 
suddenly  disappearing.  It  always  made  him  think 
of  the  countless  millions  of  souls  invisible  to  the 
human  eye,  and  which  the  light  of  immortality  alone 
could  reveal.  He  used  to  lie  there  as  long  as  possible 
— thinking  of  his  mother,  wondering  how  he  was 
going  to  know  her  among  the  other  souls. 

This  morning  while  he  lay  there  watching  the 
light,  his  thoughts  turned  into  the  same  channel  as 
of  old,  and  he  wondered  if  his  mother  knew  what  he 
was  about  to  do. 

His  father's  room  was  just  across  the  hall  from 
his.  When  the  house  was  built,  Robert  was  only  six 
years  old,  and  they  had  arranged  the  rooms  that 
way  so  that  he  and  his  father  could  lie  in  bed  and 
see  each  other  the  very  first  thing  in  the  morning, 
and  talk  across  the  hall  to  each  other.  This  had 
been  a  sweet  custom  of  theirs  when  Robert  was  a 
little  lad.  This  same  custom  had  grown  into  his 
young  manhood. 

While  he  lay  looking  at  the  sunlight  and  thinking 
about  his  mother,  the  door,  left  slightly  ajar,  opened 
wider  so  that  Robert  was  able  to  see  his  father  sitting 
at  his  desk,  busily  engaged  in  writing.  The  desk  was 
strewn  with  papers;  he  looked  fatigued  and  careworn. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  43 

For  one  brief  second  Robert's  conscience  smote  him. 
His  father's  fine,  placid,  yet  weary  face  roused  in 
him  a  struggling  passion  of  regret  and  remorse.  It 
was  a  mere  flash  of  pain,  for  the  very  devil  of  craving 
filled  his  throat.  That  consuming  thirst  for  the 
stimulant  seized  him — shutting  out  all  tender  senti- 
ments. 

"Pshaw!"  he  said,  "there  is  no  need  for  this  weak 
sentiment — it  is  not  at  all  a  matter  for  compunction." 
As  soon  as  he  heard  the  last  echo  of  his  father's  de- 
parting footsteps  he  got  out  of  bed,  seated  himself  at 
his  desk  and  wrote  Croggs  an  order  for  whisky.  The 
letter  indicated  a  strong  wish  for  absolute  secrecy. 
The  devil  within  him  bore  witness  that  Croggs  would 
not  fail  him  in  the  matter  of  concealment. 

Sure  enough,  a  few  days  after  that,  he  was  the 
recipient  of  a  package  which,  to  all  appearances,  was 
a  package  of  books.  No  one  thought  of  it  being 
aught  else  save  books. 

On  the  day  of  the  arrival  Robert  was  in  a  state 
of  feverish  excitement.  He  tried  hard  to  appear 
calm,  but  inwardly  raged  to  open  his  package.  He 
stifled  the  peevishness  and  impatience  which  arose 
in  response  to  Janet's  tender,  motherly  concern. 
He  hungered  to  be  alone  with  his  secret.  For  the 
first  time  in  his  life  he  wanted  his  father's  absence. 

At  first  opportunity  he  broke  the  seal  in  his  room 
behind  a  locked  door.  At  sight  of  the  sparkling  fluid 
a  million  demons  broke  loose.  He  wanted  to  drink 
all  of  it  at  once,  but  cunning  saved  him  from  this 
error.  "A  little  at  a  time,"  he  said,  and  held  the 
bottle  to  his  lips.  He  got  only  one  great  gulp,  when 
he  heard  Janet's  footsteps  in  the  hall.  He  heard  her 


44  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

stop  at  his  door,  turn  the  knob,  and  heard  her  grunt 
of  disappointment  at  finding  the  door  locked. 

"In  a  minute,  Janet,"  she  heard  her  "blessed 
young  man"  say,  and  waited  patiently.  Robert 
darted  about  with  devilish  haste,  tucking  the  parcel 
from  sight.  "Damn  it!"  he  muttered  thickly  as  he 
scrambled  to  bed  without  unlocking  the  door. 

"I'll  come  again,  Bobbie,"  he  heard  Janet  say, 
and  inwardly  swore  because  she  had  called  him  by 
the  old  pet  name.  "Confound!  Why  can't  they 
let  a  fellow  grow  up  sometime!"  "No — come  on  in 
now,  Janet,"  he  said,  calmly. 

"How  can  I  come  in  when  the  door  is  locked?" 
And  old  Janet  laughed. 

Robert  unlocked  the  door  and  Janet  came  in, 
bringing  a  tray  of  tempting  food.  But  Robert  did  not 
want  the  food — the  steaming  broth  and  crisp  brown 
toast  had  no  attraction  for  him.  The  crave  for 
drink  consumed  every  other  want.  More  than  the 
hunger  after  bread — more  than  the  frenzy  of  love, 
this  poison  hunger  overpowers  every  other  instinct. 

He  waved  the  food  aside  with  a  show  of  irrita- 
bility that  he  could  not  conceal.  This  was  a  thing 
quite  new  to  the  eyes  of  old  Janet.  She  wondered 
what  had  come  over  her  "blessed  young  man." 
Something  had  embittered  and  crossed  his  once 
sweet  nature,  she  knew.  She  soon  left  the  room, 
but  to  Robert's  complete  dismay,  returned  after 
having  been  gone  only  about  five  minutes.  This 
time  she  brought  a  cup  of  hot  cocoa. 

"Here,  drink  this,  Bobsy,  dear,"  she  crooned; 
"drink  this,  my  honey.  It  will  make  Janet's  young 
man  strong — drink  it  for  Janet,  my  honey-child," 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  45 

she  begged  in  soft,  sweet  tones,  which  in  the  old  days 
would  have  settled  the  thing  at  once.  He  would 
have  gulped  anything  just  to  please  her. 

Now  he  hated  her  foolish,  baby  talk,  and  wanted 
her  out  of  his  sight.  But  Janet  lingered — going  here 
and  there,  fixing  things  a  bit  before  Daddy  Drew 
should  come  home.  Robert,  in  his  eagerness  for  her 
to  begone,  hated  her. 

Terrors!  She  was  nearing  its  hiding  place. 
Hell!  had  discovered  it!  Robert  felt  it  to  be  so, 
although  he  did  not  turn  his  head.  Janet's  long 
pause  and  hoarse  grunt  were  significant  enough. 

Poor  Janet  picked  up  the  bottle  and  looked  at 
it.  She  did  not  utter  a  word — just  gave  an  involun- 
tary grunt  of  fear  and  horror.  "Heavens  have 
mercy  upon  us!"  she  inwardly  groaned,  and  she 
quickly  thrust  the  bottle  back  into  its  hiding  place. 
Her  limbs  seemed  to  age  ten  years.  She  tottered 
feebly  toward  the  door  without  a  word. 

They  both  heard  the  front  door  softly  close — 
heard  the  quick  steps  of  John  Drew  hurrying  to  the 
bedside  of  his  beloved  son. 

"God!"  said  Robert  in  wild  desperation,  "Janet 
must  not  tell  father.  I'll  kill  her  first!" 

"Janet!" 

The  woman  turned.  Robert  sat  up  in  bed. 
There  was  a  sinister  look  in  his  eyes  of  fire  which 
caused  poor  old  Janet's  heart  to  wither  in  her  bosom. 
She  read  his  meaning,  even  though  he  had  only  called 
her  name. 

John  Drew  hastened  onward.  Quick  as  the  old 
woman's  limbs  would  allow,  she  pushed  the  package 
further  away  from  sight,  then  took  up  the  tray  and, 


46  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  she  commenced  to 
say,  without  a  single  catch  in  her  voice:  "There  now, 
Janet's  'blessed  young  man,'  drink  this.  It  will  be 
havin'  you  runnin'  everywhere  in  no  time." 

A  second  later  the  father  entered,  and  smiled  to 
see  her  thus  mothering  his  son. 

"I  am  much  better — thanks  to  Janet's  dinner," 
he  beamed  into  his  father's  inquiring  eyes.  At  the 
first  opportunity  Janet  left  the  room.  She  had 
barely  reached  the  door  when  her  feeble  old  limbs 
gave  way.  She  managed  to  totter  to  her  room, 
where  she  dropped  into  a  chair  and  for  a  long  time 
her  body  shook  with  silent  weeping. 

Janet  had  been  connected  with  the  family  so 
long.  She  knew  the  history  of  all  the  Drews — knew 
the  poor  young  mother's  struggle  to  keep  John 
Drew  from  filling  a  drunkard's  grave — knew  that  this 
struggle  and  the  birth  of  Robert  had  brought  about 
the  hapless  young  woman's  early  death.  Old  Janet 
had  watched  the  perfect  love  which  existed  between 
father  and  son,  and  hoped  that  the  father's  heroic 
struggle  against  strong  drink  might  be  bountifully 
rewarded  in  the  perfect  manhood  of  the  son. 

Old  Janet  had  faithfully  adhered  to  her  duty  in 
helping  John  Drew  to  give  Robert  a  careful  training. 
Both  of  them  used  the  utmost  caution  in  regard  to 
their  mutual  fear. 

The  cruel  truth  had  been  thrust  upon  her,  that 
the  curse  which  they  feared  most  had  descended 
upon  Robert  in  spite  of  all  their  caution.  "Oh,  my 
poor  baby!  My  poor,  dear  little  Bobs!  My  poor, 
God-forsaken  'blessed  young  man'!"  she  wailed, 
rocking  herself  to  and  fro  in  her  misery. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  47 

All  that  evening  Robert's  father  lingered  near, 
reading  to  him  and  telling  him  stories — like  he  used 
to  amuse  little  Robert  of  old.  All  during  this  time 
the  appetite  for  the  poison  stimulant  burned  in 
Robert's  throat. 

"To-night— to-night  I  shall  have  it  at  all  cost," 
he  said  to  himself.  It  was  twelve  o'clock  that  night 
before  the  opportunity  came.  John  Drew  and  Janet 
had  retired.  As  soon  as  Robert  felt  sure  of  safety, 
he  slunk  out  of  bed  and  slipped  his  precious  package 
from  its  place. 

"At  last!"  he  said,  "at  last!"  He  gloated  tri- 
umphantly as  he  eyed  the  bottle — eyed  it  with  a 
half  scared  exhilaration  a  man  feels  who  takes  a 
chance  and  is  quite  sure  he'll  not  have  another 
chance  if  he  loses  that  one.  He  became  desperate — 
nothing  must  hinder  him  now.  He  felt  that  he  could 
shoot  the  first  person  that  interrupted  him. 

Anyone  looking  in  upon  Robert  at  that  moment 
would  have  been  greatly  shocked  to  see  him  thus 
transformed.  His  once  firm  lips  drooped;  his  jaws 
sagged;  his  once  splendid  body  was  gaunt  and  hag- 
gard. There  was  a  wicked  glint  in  his  eyes,  and  his 
long,  bony  fingers  trembled  as  he  raised  the  bottle 
to  his  lips  in  one  long  draught. 

"Ah!"  he  said,  smacking  his  lips.  "Ah! — let 
anyone  disturb  me  now." 

He  threw  back  his  head  and  another  stream  of 
fire  poured  down  his  throat.  This  time  the  bottle 
was  half  empty.  Being  weakened  because  of  undue 
excitement,  Robert  sank  panting  to  a  chair,  looking 
wildly  around  the  room  as  if  he  feared  some  hidden 
menace  in  the  shadows.  Then  he  threw  back  his 


48  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

head  and  laughed  softly.  He  continued  to  drink 
and  to  gloat  until  intoxication  began  to  mount  to  his 
brain.  Again  the  deadly  poison  crept  through  his 
veins,  and  he  began  to  lapse  into  the  delirium  of 
intoxication.  He  raised  the  bottle  to  his  lips  again — 
it  was  empty! 

Muttering  foolishly,  he  rose  to  get  back  to  bed 
without  thinking  to  hide  the  traces  of  his  guilt  this 
time.  The  empty  bottle  fell  to  the  floor  with  a 
slightly  ringing  thud.  Robert  took  no  heed  as  he 
reeled  toward  the  bed.  He  was  still  muttering  fool- 
ishly when  he  reached  it.  Instead  of  smuggling  be- 
neath the  warm  covers,  he  fell  asleep  upon  top  of 
them  all,  in  a  deep  drunken  stupor. 

Outside  the  night  was  chill  and  raw,  and  rendered 
boisterous  by  a  gale  of  wind  which  whistled  along 
the  streets.  It  had  ceased  to  rain,  and  the  high  wind 
had  shifted  to  the  north  and  was  bitterly  cold.  The 
fire  having  now  burned  low  in  the  grate,  gradually 
brightened  and  threw  flickering  shadows  upon  the 
walls  and  ceiling  of  the  still  chamber.  Strange 
shadows  seemed  to  dance  in  weird,  wild  mockery 
around  the  prostrate  figure  lying  there  on  the  bed 
and  outside  the  covers. 

Once  the  young  man  was  aroused  by  the  chilliness 
which  crept  all  about  his  body.  He  stared  above 
him;  for  in  his  fancy — was  it  fancy? — a  shadowy 
figure  had  glided  out  from  the  semi-darkness  and 
stood  by  his  bedside.  It  laid  a  finger  upon  his  scin- 
tillating heart,  while  the  index  finger  of  the  other 
hand,  gleaming  in  the  darkness,  pointed  upwards  to 
a  mysterious  fate.  Robert's  lips  moved  to  form  the 
word,  "Mother!" 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  49 

Thus  he  lay  for  hours  until  a  terrible  cough  seemed 
to  rend  his  chest.  Something  broke  loose  and  blood 
issued  from  his  mouth  and  nose.  Suddenly  John  Drew 
awoke  with  a  start.  He  had  been  having  an  awful 
dream.  His  first  thought  was  of  Robert.  He  sprang 
out  of  bed  and  rushed  to  the  room  across  the  hall — 
to  find  a  sight  which  froze  his  blood  in  his  veins.  He 
picked  up  the  empty  bottle  and  stared  from  it  to 
the  wreck  upon  the  bed,  with  a  strained  and  startled 
gaze  of  a  brave  man  wounded  to  the  death.  His 
body  aged  and  trembled.  He  bore  the  aspect  of  an 
aged  man  stricken  with  palsy.  His  heart,  all  his 
hopes — his  very  life — rent  asunder!  Down,  down, 
nearer  and  nearer  to  the  floor  he  sank — dumb  misery 
and  unutterable  woe  in  his  dim  eyes.  The  blow  was 
too  much  for  him.  It  struck  him  to  the  very  ground. 

"Robert!"  he  cried  as  he  went  down,  "you  kill 
me!" 

What  a  spectacle  our  hollow,  deceitful,  brutal 
world  must  present  to  a  higher  and  nobler  order  of 
beings,  if  cognizant  of  the  struggle,  the  strife,  and 
baseness  and  misery  of  this  mundane  sphere!  What 
a  wretched  fool  is  man  to  allow  such  a  miserable  in- 
dulgence as  drink  to  ruin  homes  by  bringing  youth 
down  to  degradation,  and  hoary  hairs  to  a  grave  of 
dishonor  and  shame! 

For  three  days  Robert  lingered  in  the  throes  of 
untold  suffering.  He  had  contracted  pneumonia. 
The  careful  nursing  of  poor  old  Janet  and  the  heart- 
broken father  availed  little.  During  those  last  days 
the  humble  pleading  in  the  sufferer's  eyes  as  he  looked 
at  his  father  was  enough  to  melt  a  heart  of  stone. 
Robert  knew  that  his  father  had  discovered  his 


50  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

secret,  and  his  eyes  followed  him  everywhere,  plead- 
ing— beseeching  forgiveness. 

Crazed  with  grief,  John  Drew  watched  by  the 
bedside  through  all  the  hours  of  crucial  suffering. 
He  had  not  many  days  to  watch  before  death  entered 
the  still  chamber — and  Robert  Drew  was  no  more. 

Friends  came  and  went  all  the  next  day  while 
the  body  of  Robert  Drew  lay  in  state.  Every  heart 
was  touched,  and  many  were  the  tears  shed  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  bereaved  parent  and  old  Janet.  All 
over  the  house  there  brooded  the  majestic  stillness 
of  sorrowing  humanity,  bound  in  breathless  silence 
by  a  common  spell. 

Sick  to  the  very  dregs  of  misery,  John  Drew 
raved  for  days  in  feverish  agony — agony  that  was 
blind,  desperate,  hopeless,  helpless,  and  cureless! 
O!  that  horrible  time!  O!  those  dreary,  wild,  dark 
days  and  nights  of  utter  loss  and  blank  wretchedness ! 
— that  frightful  space  of  torment  in  which  every 
nerve  in  his  body  seemed  torn  and  wrenched  by  that 
terrible  grief!  How  he  lived  through  it  one  cannot 
tell.  His  friends  did  not  wonder  that  he  came  through 
it  with  somewhat  unbalanced  mind.  When  the 
frenzy  of  it  wore  itself  out  at  last,  he  grew  calm  with 
that  dreadful  calmness  of  stupefaction  and  exhaus- 
tion. During  this  time  he  never  saw  anyone — 
never  went  out  of  the  house,  but  kept  himself  shut 
in — alone  with  all  his  bitter  sorrow. 


CHAPTER  IV 

ONE  night  John  Drew  paced  the  floor  of  his 
lonely  room — quick,  restless  pacing,  which  betokens 
an  almost  frenzied  condition  of  mind  on  the  verge  of 
committing  some  desperate  deed.  For  the  last  day 
or  so  he  had  acted  that  way,  as  if  he  was  trying  to 
make  up  his  mind  to  a  contemplated  suicide.  He 
paused  in  his  rapid  walking  to  open  the  drawer  of 
his  desk.  He  drew  out  a  revolver,  eyed  it  furtively, 
slipped  it  back  into  its  place,  and  resumed  his  pacing 
again.  A  large,  splendid  photograph  of  Robert  hung 
on  the  wall.  This  photograph  had  been  made  only 
a  few  months  before  his  graduation.  His  father  had 
often  looked  upon  it  with  special  pride.  John  went 
over  to  it  and  gazed  silently  upon  the  handsome, 
perfect  contour  of  the  face.  When  he  turned  abruptly 
away  there  was  something  in  his  eyes  which  would 
have  alarmed  an  observer.  His  jaws  were  set  in 
grim,  dogged  determination.  At  last  his  mind 
was  made  up  to  whatever  he  had  contemplated  doing. 
He  removed  the  revolver  from  the  drawer,  chuckling 
softly  as  its  evil  gleam  matched  the  light  which 
burned  in  his  eyes. 

Whatever  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  do,  he 
must  do  it  at  once!  John  Drew  had  been  wandering 
for  many  days,  aimlessly,  hopelessly,  without  con- 
secutive idea,  coherent  thought,  or  plan  of  action; 
without  the  faintest  inspiration  or  suggestion  of  a 
manner  of  escape  from  the  bewildering  torment  of 
his  grief,  without  even  the  power  to  conceive  or  the 

51 


52  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

will  to  execute  a  plan  out  of  the  dumb  misery  which 
gripped  his  heart.  While  he  gazed  upon  the  photo- 
graph of  his  unfortunate  offspring,  his  mind  had  sud- 
denly seized  the  terrible  idea  which  in  his  unbalanced, 
frenzied  condition  of  mind  seemed  the  only  retribu- 
tion that  would  soothe  his  hurt  and  much  wronged 
heart — murder! 

He  would  seek  the  fellow  who  sold  his  son  the 
poison,  and  make  him  pay  for  the  dastardly  deed 
with  his  blood.  He  would  never  rest  until  he  had 
placed  that  man  beyond  the  power  to  ruin  other 
innocents.  The  world  would  be  better  off  without 
him. 

At  that  moment  Croggs,  in  his  rum  shop  at  New 
Gate,  had  no  dreams  that  the  name  and  address  on 
the  label  of  that  fatal  bottle  of  whisky  would  be  the 
means  of  pointing  him  out  as  a  criminal,  instead  of 
fulfilling  the  innocent  function  of  increasing  his 
trade. 

Having  only  a  few  moments  in  which  to  catch  the 
early  train  going  out  to  New  Gate,  John  Drew  thrust 
a  few  things  into  a  bag,  slipped  the  gun  into  his 
pocket,  and  dashed  out  of  the  house  in  almost  an 
instant. 

It  had  begun  to  snow,  so  lightly  at  first  that  it 
seemed  a  mere  brush  of  some  viewless  insect  upon 
the  cheek;  but  by  the  time  he  reached  the  station, 
he  went  in  out  of  a  swarm  of  whirling  flakes,  blinded 
and  whitened.  By  the  time  the  snow  had  covered 
the  streets,  the  train  had  started  on  its  way  to  New 
Gate,  carrying  John  Drew  as  one  of  its  passengers. 

The  snow  fell  all  that  night,  with  fierce  gusts  of 
wind  that  moaned  in  the  chimney  of  that  house  of 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  53 

sorrow  which  John  Drew  had  just  vacated.  It 
moaned  and  sorely  troubled  the  sleep  of  poor,  faith- 
ful old  Janet.  While  the  wind  howled,  the  snow 
softly  precipitated  a  spotless  mantle  of  merciful 
obliteration  over  John  Drew's  departing  footprints. 

Day  was  just  beginning  to  break  when  he  reached 
New  Gate.  On  account  of  the  early  hour  and  the 
inclemency  of  the  weather,  there  were  few  people 
astir.  As  John  Drew  walked  down  the  familiar 
streets  of  New  Gate,  a  fierce  onset  of  wind  caught 
him  savagely  and  stirred  his  blood  into  action.  He 
turned  towards  Croggs's  saloon,  walking  rapidly  and 
undeviatingly  on  to  escape  observation.  Almost  be- 
fore he  was  aware  of  it  he  was  entering  Croggs's. 
There  was  no  other  customer — a  fact  which  pleased 
John  Drew,  for  he  wanted  the  man  all  to  himself. 

With  a  good-natured  smile  he  walked  up  to  the 
counter,  demanded  a  drink,  and  laid  down  a  bill. 
Croggs's  eyes  twinkled  as  he  noted  the  careless  in- 
difference with  which  this  customer  handled  his 
money.  It  savored  of  abundance.  He  handed  the 
decanter  to  John,  which  he  took  with  as  much  ease 
and  confidence  as  he  could  assume.  The  hesitancy 
and  tremble  of  his  hand  was  unnoticed  by  Croggs, 
who  continued  to  beam  across  the  counter  at  the 
"early  bird  with  the  dough." 

John  Drew  eyed  the  sparkling  fluid  amidst  a 
tumult  of  rage.  Suddenly  some  strange,  intuitive 
knowledge  seemed  to  warn  Croggs — a  creeping  sen- 
sation at  the  nape  of  his  neck,  a  strange  quivering 
of  his  muscles — something.  He  shot  a  keen  glance 
at  John,  thence  toward  a  drawer  in  which  a  revolver 
was  concealed.  All  at  once  John  Drew  took  on  an 


54  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

aspect  of  wily  cunning.     He  leaned  one  elbow  on 
the   counter   in   an   easy,   confidential   manner   and 
asked,  "Business  on  a  boom,  eh?" 
•  "Well,  purty  good,  purty  good,"  said  Croggs. 

"When  the  weather  is  like  this  you  have  an  in- 
crease of  trade — huh?" 

"Yes,  yes.  You  see,  they  must  have  spirits  to 
keep  their  blood  hot.  Nothing  like  it  to  keep  out 
cold — prevent  grippe." 

"Young  men  drop  in  continually  and  get  a  glass 
to  drive  out  the  shivers."  John  Drew  fixed  the  bar- 
keeper with  a  searching  glance. 

"Suie  they  do — nothing  like  the  stuff  for  that," 
said  Croggs. 

"Sometimes  they  are  innocent  young  men  who 
have  never  had  a  drink — innocents  who  have  been 
carefully  reared  in  ignorance  of  whisky  and  its  evil 
effects;  and  the  first  glass,  at  your  suggestion,  is  the 
beginning  of  their  ruin.  You  urge  them  when  they 
are  reluctant — timid  and  green." 

"Sure!  They,  every  mother's  son  of  them,  always 
act  upon  my  suggestion,  and  are  none  the  worse  for 
it,"  answered  Croggs  boastfully. 

John  Drew's  eyes  narrowed  perceptibly. 

"Why  should  they  come  here,  then,  if  not  to  buy 
or  beg  a  drink?"  said  Croggs,  noticing  the  rising  heat 
in  his  customer's  eyes. 

"They  might  chance  to  come  in — just  drop  in 
with  a  friend,  perhaps." 

"They  ought  to  know  what  they  want  or  don't 
want — it  is  none  of  my  business.  I  sell  it  to  whoever 
I  can.  I'm  not  here  to  reform  men,  but  to  sell  whisky 
to  any  fool  who  wants  it." 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  55 

Croggs  was  entirely  ignorant  that  he  was  sealing 
his  doom  with  his  bully  words. 

"I  guess  you  find  it  a  pleasant  job  indeed — this 
taking  advantage  of  fools!"  Such  a  sudden  fury  lit 
up  John  Drew's  eyes  that  Croggs  involuntarily  re- 
coiled. 

"A  few  weeks  ago  a  youth  as  ignorant  of  alcohol 
as  a  girl  stopped  in  here  with  a  chum  of  his.  He  was 
ill,  and  on  his  way  home  to  his  father — that  father 
who  would  have  given  his  life  to  prevent  the  steps 
which  the  young  man  took.  You  took  advantage  of 
his  ignorance,  urged  him  to  drink,  then  sold  him 
more.  That  fatal  first  drink  was  the  beginning  of 
his  ruin.  You  finished  the  work  by  filling  an  order 
for  another  quart.  Your  damned  work  was  as  sure  as 
hell!  My  boy  now  fills  a  drunkard's  grave,  and  you 
— beast  that  you  are — you  are  responsible  for  his 
death!" 

John  Drew  towered  above  the  barkeeper,  who 
cringed  in  astonished  fear.  In  his  eyes  there  lay  a 
look  of  cowardice  and  guilt.  He  remembered  the 
incident  well,  and  had  even  planned  further  tempta- 
tion for  the  unsuspecting  youth. 

Croggs  was  afraid.  Terror  clutched  at  his  quak- 
ing heart,  for  there  was  no  mistaking  the  stranger's 
murderous  intention.  He  tried  to  assume  an  air  of 
indifference.  He  turned  as  if  to  attend  to  other 
matters  of  more  importance;  but  that  feeling  of 
deadly  fear  crept  at  the  nape  of  his  neck.  His  mo- 
ments were  numbered!  This  was  no  situation  to 
trifle  and  parley  with.  He  turned  and  found  himself 
staring  into  the  deadly  barrel  of  John  Drew's  re- 
volver. Already  the  finger  was  quivering  to  pull  the 


56  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE? 

trigger  which  would  send  Croggs  to  instant  doom. 
God!  Would  nothing  interfere — would  no  one  come 
in!  A  cry  would  be  useless.  The  arm  which  held 
the  weapon  was  as  steady  as  an  arm  of  steel. 

"Nothing  but  your  life!  Your  life  must  pay  for 
my  son's  ruin  and  death!" 

"Merciful  heavens!  The  man  must  be  mad!" 
thought  Croggs.  Would  not  the  merciful  hand  of 
God  stay  the  deed  which  would  rip  his  soul  from  his 
body  and  hurl  it  quaking  and  all  unprepared  before 
its  Maker? 

John  Drew's  teeth  bared  in  a  snarl  of  rage.  He 
was  madly  enjoying  this  cowardly  dog's  torture. 
But  suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  his  triumph,  an  image 
formed  itself  in  his  brain — the  pure,  spotless  image 
of  his  wife.  Just  when  he  was  about  to  pull  the  trigger, 
lo!  it  seemed  that  he  was  about  to  empty  the  contents 
of  the  revolver  into  the  naked  breast  of  his  own  wife 
— Robert's  mother! 

He  lowered  the  weapon,  and  Croggs  saw  the  look 
of  murder  miraculously  turned  to  wonder  and  amaze- 
ment. Poor  Croggs  breathed  at  last,  and  wiped  his 
forehead,  on  which  there  clung  great  drops  of  cold 
perspiration.  He  knew  that  he  had  looked  death 
square  in  the  face.  He  did  not  know  what  invisible 
force  had  intervened.  It  was  enough  that  the  mo- 
ment had  passed  and  he  was  still  alive.  He  began 
to  beg  for  mercy.  "Lord,  man!  Don't  you  see  that 
this  is  my  living?  I've  got  to  sell  whisky — there's  no 
other  way.  How  could  I  know  that  it  was  going  to 
cause  the  young  man's  death?  Everybody  in  this 
town  buys  whisky  here  at  my  little  shop.  I'm  not 
to  blame  for  your  son's  death." 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  57 

"If  you  are  not,  pray  who,  then?"  The  vision  of 
Alice  had  vanished  just  in  time  for  John  to  catch 
Croggs's  last  words.  "Who  then?"  he  repeated. 

"Why,  the  one  who  gave  me  license  to  sell  whisky 
— I  suppose.  There  are  other  saloons — the  town's 
full  of  them.  Kill  me,  and  the  work  goes  on,  while 
you  gain  nothing  but  bloody  hands  and  the  gallows. 
If  you  would  find  the  real  perpetrator  of  this  crime, 
seek  the  one  who  issues  license  to  sell  liquors." 

John  Drew  could  not  deny  the  truth  of  Croggs's 
statement. 

There  was  a  sound  of  shuffling  feet  outside;  then 
three  men  entered  the  barroom.  Greatly  relieved, 
Croggs  proceeded  to  wait  upon  them.  Though  some- 
what reassured,  he  was  yet  afraid  of  the  sinister  look 
on  John  Drew's  face  as  he  watched  and  waited. 

Croggs  turned — only  for  an  instant  it  seemed — 
but  when  he  again  sought  the  face  of  his  tormentor, 
he  was  gone! 

John  Drew  hastened  from  the  saloon  and  turned 
down  an  obscure  alley,  out  of  sight.  When  the 
excited  Croggs  and  the  three  rushed  to  the  door,  he 
was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  As  soon  as  he  felt  sure 
that  he  had  made  good  his  escape,  he  stopped  in 
order  to  collect  his  shattered  senses.  He  was  nearly 
insane.  The  thoughts  which  coursed  through  his 
brain  were  vague  and  incredulous  thoughts  which 
utterly  darkened  all  his  capacity  for  reasoning  out 
the  tragedy  of  the  situation.  In  the  midst  of  it  all 
he  kept  thinking  of  his  boy — his  glorious,  manly 
Robert — ruthlessly  destroyed  by  man's  folly  and 
weakness. 


58  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

"Surely  there  shall  be  an  atonement!"  he  cried. 
"If  not,  then  there  is  something  wrong  in  the  system 
of  creation — a  flaw  in  the  universe,  and  God  himself 
cannot  be  perfect!"  He  gazed  about  him  at  the 
dazzling  mantle  of  snow  which  covered  the  heaps  of 
filth  and  rags,  shook  his  head  dazedly,  perplexed  and 
baffled  at  the  inexplicable  cause  of  things.  His 
temples  throbbed.  He  felt  a  strange  dizziness  about 
his  head.  Then  he  remembered  that  he  had  not 
slept  in  twenty-four  hours,  nor  eaten  anything.  He 
shook  himself  to  be  assured  that  he  dreamed  not. 
He  looked  at  his  hands  as  if  to  find  an  indelible  blood- 
stain upon  them.  Had  he  accomplished  what  he 
had  come  here  to  do?  Somehow  the  accomplishment 
of  the  deed  seemed  half  way  between  reality  and 
fancy.  He  drew  the  revolver  from  his  pocket  and 
found  that  no  bullet  had  been  fired.  He  heaved  a 
sigh,  whether  of  relief  or  regret,  he  knew  not. 

Suddenly  a  longing  for  rest  took  possession  of 
him.  He  needed  warmth:  he  was  so  cold.  He  must 
move  on  or  freeze. 

John  Drew  stumbled  on  through  the  snow  to  the 
end  of  the  alley.  He  had  no  strength  to  go  farther, 
but  threw  himself  dejectedly  down  upon  the  cleanly 
swept  steps  of  the  little  cottage  which  stood  there 
alone.  He  took  no  cognizance  as  to  whether  it  was 
occupied  or  empty.  He  had  been  there  only  a  little 
while  when  the  door  opened;  and  great  was  his  sur- 
prise to  find  the  visage  of  old  Tom  Greely  framed 
therein.  He  had  known  old  Greely  from  childhood. 
Many  a  time  had  he  sought  refuge  from  showers  of 
hostile  missiles  by  running  into  the  house  of  old  Tom 
Greely. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  59 

How  strange  that  fate  should  send  him  there 
now — a  place  of  refuge  from  his  tortured  mind !  The 
sight  of  this  old  friend  served  to  restore  his  equilib- 
rium more  than  anything  else. 

John  Drew  was  placed  comfortably  by  a  warm 
fire  and  bidden  to  rest  while  a  simple  meal  was 
served.  He  made  a  great  effort  to  become  his  nat- 
ural self,  and  was  successful  to  a  great  extent.  After 
a  good  night's  rest  he  was  able  to  think  more  clearly. 
Already  the  actions  of  the  previous  day  seemed  a 
hideous  dream.  He  looked  at  his  hands,  and  there 
arose  a  feeling  of  thanksgiving  that  they  were  as  yet 
unstained  by  human  blood.  Yesterday  his  plot  of 
crime  was  the  uppermost  thing  in  his  mind.  The 
greatest  wish  of  his  heart  was  to  strike  the  death- 
blow of  revenge,  but  to-day  he  rejoiced  to  find  his 
hands  still  clean  of  crime. 

Men  often  overestimate  their  capacity  for  evil. 
They  may  often  take  steps  which  lead  to  the  crime, 
impelled  by  the  same  sort  of  mental  action  as  in 
working  out  a  mathematical  problem,  yet  be  power- 
less with  compunction  at  the  final  moment. 

The  joy  which  came  over  John  Drew  when  he 
discovered  his  failure  in  committing  the  murder  far 
surpassed  the  savage  joy  of  revenge,  however  com- 
plete. He,  the  father,  must  take  care  lest  he  fall 
lower  than  the  son.  After  all,  Robert  had  committed 
no  great  crime.  He  had  sinned  against  the  stern  law 
of  nature  and  she  had  made  him  pay  Jie  price — as 
nature  will  ever  do  to  those  who  break  her  laws. 
Robert  had  only  fallen  an  easy  victim  to  the  snares 
set  daily  by  society  at  large,  for  not  a  day  passed  but 
that  some  form  of  alcoholics  was  served  upon  the 


60  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

tables  of  the  poor  as  well  as  the  rich.  Even  a  great 
majority  of  the  clergymen  warmed  their  blood  with 
it  every  raw  morning.  Numerous  physicians  pre- 
scribed it.  No  wonder  that  his  innocent  Robert  had 
become  a  victim.  John  Drew  was  able  to  reason  in 
this  manner,  and  with  this  ability  to  reason  there 
dawned  a  new  purpose — that  of  giving  his  life  for  a 
nobler  gain  than  revenge. 

In  the  meantime,  Miss  Grace  King,  in  her  home 
of  pomp  and  splendor,  had  undergone  as  strange  and 
as  interesting  a  transition  as  can  be  imagined.  Spoiled 
and  petted  though  she  was,  there  were  many  splendid 
traits  in  this  young  girl's  make-up  which,  once  de- 
veloped, would  make  her  a  noble  woman.  Having 
traveled  a  great  deal,  she  had  seen  a  lot  of  society, 
had  noted  its  frivolousness  and  lack  of  sincerity  in 
many  instances;  and  although  she  had  often  entered 
society  with  all  the  coquetry  of  a  natural  flirt,  there 
was  deep  down  in  her  woman's  heart  an  undercurrent 
desire  for  true  love  and  happiness. 

Once  when  Miss  Grace  was  barely  seventeen  she 
had  come  near  losing  her  heart  upon  a  Spanish 
violinist  of  great  skill.  Her  quick  and  keen  intellect 
soon  discovered  the  man's  perfidy;  but  her  disap- 
pointment had  been  so  great  that  for  months  she 
gave  herself  over  to  reckless  abandon  and  frivolity. 
Up  to  the  time  she  had  met  Robert,  she  had  not 
quite  recovered.  She  still  tried  to  harden  her  heart 
against  love,  telling  herself  that  no  man  was  honor- 
able and  few  women  virtuous. 

Her  attitude  toward  young  Drew  was  nothing 
new.  And  she  was  elated  over  the  complete  novelty 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  61 

of  the  situation.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before 
the  real  condition  of  affairs  asserted  itself  in  a  way 
which  puzzled  Miss  Grace  herself.  She  did  not  at 
first  define  her  own  feelings.  Before  she  was  aware 
of  it,  she  began  to  thrill  with  pleasure  whenever  she 
caught  Robert's  burning  glances.  The  young  man's 
clean  ideas,  chaste  thoughts,  and  high  regard  for 
womanhood  fascinated  and  charmed  her.  She  had 
met  many  men  and  had  acquired  the  method  of 
ascertaining  their  true  character  largely  by  their 
conversation.  It  is  easy  to  judge  the  young  man 
whose  aspirations  are  pure  and  high,  by  their  con- 
versation. By  this  same  method  it  is  easy  to  judge 
the  youth  who  reads  much  and  discriminately,  who 
finds  his  associates  among  the  exemplary.  Evil 
habits,  low  aims,  and  inferior  manhood  are  nearly 
always  disclosed  in  the  conversation  of  the  indi- 
vidual. 

By  this  method  Miss  Grace  had  gained  a  knowl- 
edge of  Robert's  intelligence,  purity,  nobleness  of 
purpose,  and  true  manliness. 

It  charmed  her  soul  in  spite  of  herself. 

On  the  very  night  that  Robert  wrote  his  last  little 
note  to  her,  she  invited  several  of  her  friends  to  tea, 
including  Robert,  just  for  the  purpose  of  having  him 
near  her.  When  she  received  the  note  which  Robert 
wrote  telling  her  of  his  illness  and  prospective  journey, 
she  felt  a  greater  disappointment  than  she  had  ever 
felt  in  all  her  life.  The  whole  entertainment  was 
completely  spoiled  for  her.  When  it  was  over,  she 
fled  to  heir  room  in  a  tumult  of  feeling  which  she 
could  not  account  for.  She  sat  staring  into  space — 
wondering  at  the  strange,  sweet  emotion  which 


62  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

stirred  her  soul.  Those  who  had  called  Miss  King  a 
heartless  flirt  would  have  formed  a  different  opinion 
of  her  now  if  they  had  beheld  her  sitting  there  in  the 
pale  moonlight,  her  face  suffused  with  a  sweet,  rich 
blush  of  a  soul  first  awakening  to  the  glorious  and 
mysterious  dawn  of  love,  for  at  last  the  haughty 
Grace  King  loved! 

Her  love  made  her  glorious.  Not  only  had  the 
face  of  her  become  softened  and  beautiful — she  had 
become  idealized.  As  three  April  days  are  enough 
for  certain  trees  to  put  on  a  covering  of  flowers,  so  a 
few  moments  had  been  enough  for  her  to  put  on  a 
new  mantle  of  beauty. 

We  sometimes  see  people  cold  and  hard  who  seem 
to  awaken,  pass  suddenly  from  frigidity  and  become 
all  at  once  splendid,  prodigal,  and  magnificent.  So 
it  was  with  Grace  King.  But  alas!  poor  girl,  she  did 
not  know  that  the  most  terrible  disappointment  was 
to  come  to  her.  She  did  not  know  that  in  a  few  days 
the  angel  of  death  would  be  knocking  at  the  door  of 
her  lover — a  knock  which  could  not  be  denied.  On 
the  eve  of  her  newfound  joy  she  was  destined  to  be 
cast  into  the  deepest  gulf  of  black  despair. 

The  news  came  to  her,  without  the  slightest  warn- 
ing, like  an  eagle  sweeping  down  out  of  a  clear,  blue 
sky  snatches  an  unsuspecting  victim  in  talons  of 
unavoidable  destruction.  The  news  smote  her  a 
cruel  blow.  The  world,  so  gloriously  splendid  only  a 
little  while  before,  became  black  and  gloomy.  For 
hours  she  lay  beneath  the  stony  weight  of  it,  bruised, 
crushed,  and  broken.  She  walked  about  the  house 
with  tottering,  faltering  footsteps  of  an  aged  dame, 
her  face  grown  old  and  haggard,  the  bloom  of  youth 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  63 

and  beauty  fading  under  the  stony  despair  which  set- 
tled over  her  countenance.  Her  parents  and  friends 
wondered  what  had  befallen  the  once  brilliant  young 
woman.  They  never  dreamed  of  connecting  her  con- 
dition with  the  reported  illness  and  death  of  young 
Drew. 

On  the  morning  of  John  Drew's  departure  to 
New  Gate,  a  heavily  veiled  young  woman  stepped 
off  the  train  at  Hollyville — a  young  woman  upon 
whom  had  befallen  the  utmost  sorrow,  that  of  yield- 
ing up  her  first  and  one  great  love  of  her  womanhood 
to  the  corruption  of  the  grave.  The  few  who  saw 
her  standing  over  the  grave  of  Robert  Drew  thought 
her  some  relative  who  had  arrived  too  late  for  the 
funeral. 

Grace  King  knew  as  she  stood  there  that  this 
sacred  spot  contained  the  body  of  the  one  man  to 
whom  she  had  given  the  crowning  love  of  her  woman- 
hood. She  had  found  out  all  the  particulars  concern- 
ing her  lover's  death,  and  she  thought  of  all  now  as 
she  stood  there  so  utterly  alone.  She  was  by  no 
means  blind  to  the  part  which  she  herself  had  played 
in  the  tragedy.  She  realized  with  shame  and  great 
remorse  that  in  her  sinful  recklessness  she  had  helped 
to  lay  the  foundation  of  her  loved  one's  destruction. 

In  deepest  contrition  she  bowed  her  head  in  silent 
prayer:  "O  God,  let  me  not  rest  until  this  greatest 
curse  of  mankind  shall  be  annihilated,  and  the 
country  free  from  this  evil  which  has  so  cruelly  slain 
my  newborn  happiness."  While  she  prayed  there 
seemed  to  be  a  choir  of  angels  singing  in  her  ears. 
She  raised  her  face  toward  heaven,  and  there  was 
indeed  a  light  in  her  eyes  and  hope  in  her  soul. 


CHAPTER  V 

LARRIMORE,  the  city  clerk,  sat  busily  engaged 
at  his  desk  when  a  stranger  entered.  Something  in 
the  man's  eyes  attracted  his  attention  at  once.  The 
stranger  was  John  Drew,  who  did  not  hesitate  but 
made  known  the  purpose  of  his  coming  immediately. 
Straight  to  the  heart  of  his  mission  he  plunged,  saying: 

"My  son,  the  light  of  my  eyes,  the  idol  of  my 
heart,  lies  dead,  and  you  are  responsible  for  it!  Tell 
me,  why  do  you  issue  license  to  sell  whisky,  which 
means  death  to  so  many  people,  complete  ruin  for 
so  many  homes — which  makes  men  lower  than  the 
insect  which  breeds  in  the  mold?" 

Larrimore  sprang  to  his  feet  in  complete  astonish- 
ment. "You  are  mistaken,"  he  cried.  "I  have  caused 
no  man  to  die !  I  do  not  know  the  man  of  whom  you 
speak!" 

"Then  it  was  not  you  who  issued  Croggs'  license 
to  sell  whisky?" 

"It  is  I,  for  truth,"  said  Larrimore;  "but,  my 
friend,  I  have  no  grudge  against  any  man.  I  have 
only  been  doing  what  I've  been  commanded  to  do — 
my  duty.  I  am  simply  a  servant  carrying  out  the 
instructions  of  higher  authority.  The  city  council  is 
responsible  for  the  licenses  I  issue.  It  is  my  duty 
to  sell  license  to  all  applicants.  I  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  right  and  wrong  of  it.  If  your  son  became 
a  whisky  fiend,  it  is  his  affair,  not  mine!" 

The  heart  of  John  Drew  weakened.  During  all 
those  years  of  frequenting  saloons,  and  with  all  his 

64 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  65 

wisdom  concerning  whisky  and  its  evil  influence,  he 
had  never  taken  thought  as  to  who  was  responsible  for 
it,  having  always  looked  upon  the  barkeeper  as  a  sort 
of  irresisting  devil  and  the  sole  parent  of  alcoholics. 
The  sole  cry  of  the  reformers  had  always  been: 
"Shun  the  barkeeper  and  his  whisky."  He  stared  at 
Larrimore  while  slowly  it  dawned  upon  him  that 
the  man  was  right.  Since  the  barkeeper  had  Oustly, 
it  seemed)  disclaimed  the  responsibility,  and  the 
city  clerk  had  done  the  same  with  equal  speciousness, 
it  slowly  dawned  upon  John  Drew  that  he  must  seek 
further. 

"When  may  I  meet  this  council?" 

"Let's  see.  There's  a  meeting  to-night,"  answered 
Larrimore. 

After  John  Drew  had  departed,  Larrimore  shook 
his  head  doubtfully,  saying,  "Some  nutty,  that." 

That  night  the  august  assembly  known  as  the 
city  council — makers  of  laws  or  ordinances,  regu- 
lators of  public  force,  raters  of  city  taxation,  orderers 
of  the  issues  of  bonds,  and  constructors  of  public 
works,  and  makers  of  appropriations  for  public  pur- 
pose— had  a  visitor  in  the  person  of  John  Drew.  It 
was  certainly  a  matter  of  serious  import  that  brought 
him  before  that  body  of  most  experienced  and  self- 
contained  citizens  of  New  Gate. 

He  put  on  as  serious  air  as  his  beating  heart 
would  allow,  knowing  that  if  he  hoped  to  bring  about 
a  successful  accomplishment  of  his  plans,  he  must 
avoid  all  show  of  undue  emotion — must  not  appear 
to  be  a  madman  or  a  crank.  These  men  must  be 
made  to  see  the  cruelty  of  allowing  such  a  fatal  pro- 
ceeding as  the  free  sale  of  liquor. 


66  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

Therefore  when  the  time  came,  his  voice  fraught 
with  a  deep  earnestness,  he  told  the  story  of  his  suffer- 
ing and  irretrievable  loss — a  story  which  could  not 
fail  to  touch  the  hearts  of  all  who  listened  to  it. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  asked  at  the  close  of  his  nar- 
rative, "who  is  responsible  for  my  son's  death?  I 
thought  the  responsibility  rested  with  Croggs,  the 
saloonkeeper  who  sold  my  boy  the  whisky;  and  had 
it  not  been  for  the  timely  intervention  of  Providence, 
Croggs  would  now  be  sleeping  the  sleep  from  which 
no  man  waketh.  Croggs  proved  his  innocence — 
that  is,  he  convinced  me  that  he  is  not  directly  re- 
sponsible since  he  has  been  authorized  by  the  city 
clerk  to  sell  intoxicants  to  all  who  want  them.  His 
argument  was  logical;  but  when  I  had  an  interview 
with  Larrimore,  he  also  shifted  the  responsibility. 

"  'The  city  council  is  responsible  for  the  license 
which  I  issue,'  he  says — a  statement  which  is  also 
true — therefore  I  knew  that  I  must  look  to  you  to 
exterminate  this  evil.  Were  I  the  only  one  that  has 
suffered,  I  would  make  no  complaint:  but  I  speak 
in  behalf  of  the  thousands  who  suffer  with  me;  the 
thousands  who  are  yet  to  suffer  on  account  of  this 
evil:  for  as  long  as  intoxicants  are  sold  over  the 
counter,  vice  and  crime  and  untold  suffering  are 
bound  to  stalk  abroad  in  the  land.  I  feel  that  the 
rights  of  every  human  being  are  as  sacred  as  my  own. 
There  are  hundreds  of  others  who  have  beloved  ones, 
upon  whom  they  lavish  their  whole  life's  love,  hopes, 
and  ambitions.  Think  of  the  number  of  these  doting 
ones  who  are  doomed  to  disappointment  because 
those  loved  ones  fall  victims  to  accursed  drink. 
Shall  you  men  stand  by  and  see  the  evil  work  go  on 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  67 

without  raising  a  hand  to  stop  it? — or,  worse  still — 
will  you  continue  to  take  part  in  it,  you  who  grant 
the  barkeeper  the  privilege  to  sell  intoxicants — will 
you  do  nothing?  When  I  looked  upon  the  face  of 
my  beloved  son,  cold  in  death,  and  realized  the 
utter  loss  upon  all  that  I  had  prided  myself,  I  was 
mad  with  grief:  sick  to  the  very  dregs  of  misery, 
hopeless,  helpless — raging!  I  came  here  to  kill 
Croggs;  but  he — wily  wretch  though  he  is — he  is 
not  responsible  for  the  laws  which  you  gentlemen 
make  and  enforce.  Could  you  not  make  better 
laws? — laws  that  would  prohibit  the  sale  of  alcohol, 
for  instance?  Think  of  your  own  sons.  The  time 
will  come  when  civilized  man  will  feel  that  the  rights 
of  every  living  creature  are  as  sacred  as  his  own. 
Anything  short  of  this  cannot  be  perfect  civilization. 
Think  of  the  millions  destroyed  not  only  in  body 
but  in  soul  by  the  ravages  of  alcohol !  Their  untimely 
death  is  a  tragedy  that  we  must  abate." 

At  the  beginning  of  John  Drew's  speech  the  board 
had  listened  with  somewhat  amused  tolerance,  then 
with  a  rising  interest,  and  finally  at  the  end  there 
was  not  one  among  them  who  remained  untouched. 
Among  them  there  was  one  who  was  more  impressed 
than  the  others;  for  he,  too,  was  the  father  of  a  son 
who  filled  a  drunkard's  grave.  Fortunately  this  one 
was  Mr.  Anderson,  the  most  influential  member  of 
the  board. 

"Fellow  citizen,"  Mr.  Anderson  said  in  reply  to 
John  Drew,  "I  am  in  deep  sympathy  with  the  grievous 
hurt  you  bear.  I  feel  sure  that  all  who  have  heard 
your  story  are  in  sympathy  with  you.  Before  I  say 
what  I  must  say  ultimately,  be  it  understood  that 


68  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

I  am  bitterly  against  the  use  of  alcoholics — I  sup- 
pose we  all  are.  And  I  cannot  leave  unexpressed  my 
natural  perception  of  what  is  just  and  right.  All 
that  you  have  said  is  true.  The  naked  truth  has 
been  demonstrated  in  thousands  of  instances,  in 
close  proximity  to  every  one  of  us;  but  on  the  other 
hand,  have  you,  who  bear  this  grievous  wrong, 
thought  of  our  position  in  regard  to  prohibition? 
The  sale  of  liquor  is  an  important  factor  in  the 
advancement  of  this  or  any  other  town.  In  the 
first  place,  it  would  be  unwise  for  this  town  to  enact 
prohibitory  laws  while  the  other  neighboring  towns 
permit  the  sale  of  liquor.  I  can  point  you  to  several 
towns  where  such  laws  have  been  enacted — Bloom- 
ington,  for  instance — it  is  a  town  which  was  once 
very  progressive,  but  which  now  owes  its  deteriora- 
tion to  its  prohibitory  law.  There  is  little  hope  for 
Bloomington  so  long  as  the  surrounding  cities  keep 
open  saloons.  On  the  other  hand,  Tiny  Town,  only 
a  distance  of  ten  miles  from  Bloomington,  prospers 
and  flourishes  under  the  wet  measure.  I  am  stating 
these  facts,  Mr.  Drew,  in  order  to  show  you  how 
prohibition  may  be  harmful  to  a  city  or  town  rather 
than  beneficial.  A  dry  city  within  a  wet  State  is  at 
a  great  disadvantage  on  account  of  rival  prosperity 
of  neighboring  cities  that  are  not  dry.  Mr.  Drew, 
this  is  a  matter  which  the  State  should  settle,  not 
the  city.  I  hope  that  I  have  made  my  reason  plain 
— why  it  is  not  wise  for  us  to  enact  prohibitory  laws 
for  New  Gate.  However,  the  cause  which  you  advo- 
cate is  certainly  a  worthy  one,  and  if  you  are  per- 
sistent enough  to  carry  the  matter  before  the  State 
Legislature,  I  promise  you  my  support." 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  69 

Bitter  disappointment  on  account  of  this  repeated 
shift  of  responsibility  took  possession  of  John  Drew's 
heart  at  first,  then  slowly  this  feeling  began  to  ebb — 
slowly  it  dawned  upon  him  that  the  purpose  for 
which  he  had  come  to  New  Gate  was  not  to  take  the 
life  of  one  man  in  revenge  for  his  son's  death,  but  to 
save  the  lives  of  thousands  by  removing  the  evil 
cause  of  their  destruction. 

He  had  a  private  interview  with  Mr.  Anderson, 
and  expressed  his  determination  to  take  the  matter 
before  the  State  legislature.  Mr.  Anderson  again 
pledged  his  support. 

One  morning,  a  few  days  later,  Mr.  Anderson  sat 
in  his  office  pondering  over  the  situation  in  which  he 
found  himself  placed,  when  a  young  lady  was  an- 
nounced. Miss  Grace  King,  her  color  heightened  by 
a  rapid  walk  against  a  frigid  wind,  entered  the  office. 
There  was  a  lack  of  the  accustomed  breeziness  about 
her.  Her  uncle  noticed  this  as  he  took  her  hands  and 
looked  deep  into  her  clouded  eyes. 

The  natural  Grace  was  always  so  full  of  sunshine 
and  withal  such  a  merry  twinkle  in  her  eyes  that  no 
wonder  her  uncle  noticed  the  change.  He  refrained 
from  questioning  her,  however,  knowing  that  what- 
ever the  trouble  was,  she  would  be  certain  to  confide 
in  him. 

Sitting  by  the  fire,  she  seemed  to  forget  his  pres- 
ence, and  her  thoughts  were  evidently  heavy  and 
gloomy. 

Whatever  it  is,  he  mused,  it  is  the  biggest  thing 
that  has  ever  come  into  her  life.  Something  very 
serious  is  troubling  the  child,  no  doubt  of  that. 
Grace  troubled  and  old — why,  it  is  preposterous! — 


70  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

yet  that  clouded  brow,  that  sad  droop  of  her  lovely 
shoulders — that  black  dress!  Her  uncle  started  in 
alarm  as  he  noted  the  last  suggestion  of  deep,  un- 
fathomable sorrow.  "They're  all  wearing  black 
nowadays,"  he  reflected.  Whatever  it  was,  he 
wished  with  all  his  heart  that  she  would  reveal  it. 
He  was  plunged  into  deepest  concern  when  he  saw 
two  bright,  big  tears  hang  on  her  lids  a  moment, 
then  splash  upon  her  folded  hands.  The  ice  was 
broken.  In  wild  abandon  of  grief,  Grace  threw  her- 
self upon  her  uncle's  bosom  and  gave  vent  to  a  pas- 
sion of  tears. 

"Oh  uncle,  I'm  the  most  miserable  creature  on 
the  globe!"  she  wailed.  "My  very  heart  is  broken!" 

"There,  there,"  he  soothed;  then  waited. 

In  passionate  words  which  tore  at  her  listener's 
heart-strings,  Miss  Grace  told  the  story  of  her  love 
and  loss — every  minute  detail  from  beginning  to  end, 
not  sparing  her  own  part  in  the  tragedy.  When  she 
had  finished,  her  uncle  knew  that  her  woman's  love — 
the  love  that  comes  to  every  woman  but  once  in 
life — had  been  given  too  late. 

The  thought  overwhelmed  him  with  tender  sym- 
pathy and  pity  that  to  this  child,  as  dear  to  him  as 
a  daughter,  there  should  come  such  a  monstrous 
grief.  He  was  utterly  at  a  loss  how  to  comfort  her. 
In  the  presence  of  such  overwhelming,  sacred  grief 
he  was  awed  and  silent.  Tenderly  he  stroked  her 
bowed  head  and  mingled  his  tears  with  hers,  praying 
that  God  would  give  her  strength  to  bear  this  crown- 
ing sorrow  of  her  life.  They  stood  silent  until  she 
became  calmer,  then  he  gently  placed  her  in  a  chair 
and  waited  for  whatever  else  she  had  to  tell. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  71 

Outside  the  wind  swept  around  the  corner  of  the 
house  in  frigid  fury.  Miss  Grace  shivered  and  clung 
to  her  uncle.  She  felt  cold — and  alone.  Suddenly 
the  half-burnt  logs  in  the  fireplace  tumbled  together, 
and  then  the  flames  leaped  up  anew — and  crackled. 

Mr.  Anderson's  thoughts  reverted  to  that  other 
story.  "How  strangely  similar,"  he  said  quietly. 
Then  he  said  to  Miss  Grace,  "You  haven't  told  me 
his  name,  dear  child." 

"Robert  Drew,"  she  whispered  softly. 

"Robert  Drew?— John  Drew's  son— of  Holly- 
ville?" 

"You  knew  him,  uncle?"  she  asked,  wistful  as  a 
child. 

"Knew  him? — er — no — not  before  to-day.  I 
learned  of  him  to-day  in  a  very  singular  way.  Grace, 
darling,  the  death  of  that  young  man  has  caused  me 
to  enter  into  a  great  undertaking."  Then  he  told 
her  the  father's  story,  and  finally  of  his  promised 
support.  "Grace,"  he  said,  "the  story  of  that  young 
man  touched  me  deeper  than  anybody  knew.  And 
now,  since  it  is  the  story  that  is  nearest  and  dearest 
to  your  heart,  so  it  becomes  of  first  importance  to 
me.  I  shall  leave  no  stone  unturned  till  I  shall  have 
done  all  that  is  within  my  power  to  obliterate  the 
cause  which  has  brought  such  a  lasting  sorrow  upon 
your  head,  and  which,  if  allowed  to  continue,  is 
destined  to  bring  sorrow  upon  so  many  others." 

"Oh,  uncle!  God  is  just  and  wise.  That  was  my 
mission  here  to-day.  The  hope  of  securing  your  aid 
in  this  great  undertaking,  which  I  myself  have  re- 
solved to  take  up,  brought  me  here  to-day.  I  am  so 
ignorant  in  affairs  of  this  kind;  but  I  knew  you 


72  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

would  help  me:  you  have  never  denied  me  anything." 
Then  for  a  brief  space  they  sat  silent,  each  deep  in 
the  thought  and  feeling  of  the  moment. 

The  deeper  the  feeling,  the  less  demonstrative 
will  be  the  expression  of  it. 

Finally  Miss  Grace  spoke  again:  "Do  you  think 
the  undertaking  most  difficult,  dear  uncle?" 

"Aye,  little  one — very  much  so.  The  thing  is 
possible  with  a  very  improbable  outlook.  However, 
we  will  do  our  best — nothing  short  of  our  best.  A 
man  is  especially  and  divinely  fortunate,  not  when 
his  conditions  are  easy,  but  when  they  are  such  that 
they  evoke  the  very  best  that  is  within  him,  even  if 
they  provoke  him  to  nobleness  and  sting  him  to 
strength.  Any  condition  is  fortunate  that  kindles  his 
enthusiasm  and  inspires  his  will.  I  am  glad  to  be 
instrumental  in  this  work,  for  I,  too,  have  a  just 
cause  for  hating  intoxicants,  as  you  well  know." 

Again  there  was  silence.  Miss  Grace  remembered 
well  the  sad  fate  of  her  only  cousin  and  playfellow. 
They  had  been  like  brother  and  sister  until  the 
awful  drink  habit  had  caught  the  young  man  in  its 
clutches  and  hurled  him  to  ruin  and  despair. 

The  painful  silence  was  broken  when  her  uncle 
looked  at  his  watch  and  said:  "I  am  to  have  a  visitor 
this  morning,  my  dear.  Would  you  care  to  remain 
and  meet  John  Drew — Robert's  father?  Or  per- 
haps you'd  rather  not  just  now." 

"I'll  meet  him  now,  uncle,"  said  Miss  Grace. 
Already  his  steps  sounded  in  the  hall.  When  John 
Drew  entered,  he  noticed  the  deep  embarrassment  of 
the  strange  and  lovely  young  woman,  and  wondered 
who  she  was. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  73 

"Mr.  Drew,  this  is  Miss  Grace  King,  my  niece," 
said  her  uncle.  John  Drew  expressed  his  delight  at 
meeting  the  young  lady,  but  became  somewhat  per- 
turbed when  several  minutes  passed  and  still  she  did 
not  depart.  He  secretly  wished  her  a  thousand  miles 
away  so  that  he  and  Mr.  Anderson  could  be  free 
to  discuss  their  all-important  topic. 

To  Miss  Grace  the  resemblance  of  this  man  to 
Robert  was  striking.  She  began  to  wonder  how  she 
could  make  this  man  know  that  her  love  for  his  son 
was  no  light  infatuation. 

"Sit  down,"  said  Mr.  Anderson — and  straightway 
he  began  to  lay  his  plans  before  John  Drew.  "I 
have  a  friend,  a  boyhood  chum,  who  is  a  member  of 
the  legislature.  I  think  he  will  be  willing  to  draft  a 
bill  for  us.  He  is  one  of  my  closest  friends;  was  a 
special  friend  of  mine  when  I  was  a  lad.  He  loved 
my  boy.  I  know  that  he  will  do  all  within  his  power 
for  us.  His  influence  is  marked,  and  if  anyone  can  be 
successful  in  getting  an  anti-liquor  bill  passed,  he  can." 

"Then  let  us  communicate  with  him  at  once  and 
start  about  this  work.  My  heart  is  full  of  it.  I  can 
do  nothing  but  plan  it  day  and  night."  John  Drew 
caught  the  eager  look  on  Miss  Grace's  face  just  then, 
and  quickly  curbed  his  excessive  vehemence. 

"We  must  go  at  this  in  a  sensible  way  if  we  wish 
to  be  successful,"  said  Mr.  Anderson,  thoughtfully. 

"Grace,  dear,  our  plan  is  to  have  my  friend  Howard 
draft  this  anti-liquor  bill  and  present  it  to  the  legis- 
lature. He  will,  I  am  very  certain,  urge  its  consid- 
eration, doing  everything  in  his  power  to  create 
waves  of  sentiment  that  will  influence  its  getting 
passed." 


74  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

Seeing  the  look  of  wonderment  on  John  Drew's 
face  as  he  thus  freely  conversed  with  Miss  Grace, 
Mr.  Anderson  thought  it  best  to  reveal  the  young 
woman's  delicate  relation  to  the  matter. 

"Mr.  Drew,"  he  said,  changing  the  subject 
somewhat,  "did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  your  son 
might  have  left  a  young  love  somewhere  to  secretly 
mourn  away  her  youth  because  of  that  young  man's 
untimely  death?  Such  has  been  the  case.  A  young 
girl  whose  soul  is  as  white  as  an  angel's  gave  her 
love  to  your  son,  and  although  he  loved  her  and 
declared  his  love,  he  died  before  he  could  make  her 
his  wife.  That  young  woman,  like  yourself,  has 
resolved  to  devote  the  rest  of  her  life  to  the  prohi- 
bition cause.  That  young  woman  is  as  dear  to  me 
as  a  daughter.  So  you  see  why  the  accomplishment  of 
this  work  is  almost  as  important  to  me  as  it  is  to 
you." 

John  Drew  looked  at  the  young  woman  in  aston- 
ishment. This,  then,  was  the  Grace  King,  daughter 
of  Raymond  King,  the  spendthrift.  He  had  known 
Raymond  King  all  his  life,  but  was  not  aware  that 
he  had  a  daughter  until  sometime  before  Robert's 
illness  he  had  heard  it  whispered  that  Raymond 
King's  daughter  had  become  infatuated  with  his 
son  Robert;  but  since  Robert  had  never  mentioned 
the  matter  to  him,  he  had  discredited  the  rumor 
altogether.  It  was  no  doubt,  and  no  wonder  then, 
that  Robert  had  been  lured  into  habits  of  intemper- 
ance. He  loved  this  girl,  daughter  of  a  man  whose 
entire  house  reeked  with  alcoholic  drinks.  It  was  a 
natural  revulsion  of  feeling  as  he  looked  at  Miss  Grace. 
Under  that  gaze,  which  was  not  altogether  kindly,  the 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  75 

poor  young  woman  cringed.  She  knew  that  there  was 
a  certain  amount  of  guilt  connected  with  her  love. 
She  thought  she  read  a  verdict  of  condemnation  in 
that  burning  glance  of  Robert's  father.  She  cowered 
for  a  moment;  but  that  great,  deep  love  for  Robert 
surged  her  soul.  It  gave  her  courage.  She  took  a 
step  toward  John  Drew,  her  head  held  high  in  queenly 
beauty,  her  bosom  heaved  under  the  tumult  which 
stirred  her  soul. 

"I  love  him!"  she  cried;  "I  will  always  love  him! 
For  this  reason  I  shall  devote  the  best  that  is  within 
me  to  the  temperance  cause.  No  one  shall  do  more 
towards  purifying  society,  ridding  it  from  alcohol's 
venom  sting,  than  I  shall  do.  I  know  alcohol's  subtle 
power.  I  know  youth's  weaknesses.  Trust  me  to  do 
much  towards  remedying  the  evil  that  alcohol  has 
brought  to  so  many  homes." 

John  Drew's  heart  was  touched — was  melted  by 
her  words.  The  hard  feeling  against  her  softened. 
After  all,  it  was  not  his  to  judge  her.  She  loved 
Robert,  and  since  Robert  had  loved  her,  she  must 
be  all  that  a  good  woman  should  be.  He  went  to 
her,  took  one  of  her  little  hands  in  his  and  reverently 
kissed  it.  Turning  to  Mr.  Anderson,  he  said  rever- 
ently: "Happy  man  to  have  won  the  love  of  such  a 
maiden." 

Miss  Grace's  uncle  took  her  other  hand,  and  the 
two  men  found  themselves  with  the  same  vow,  that 
each  would  do  his  utmost  in  wiping  out  the  curse 
which  was  destined  to  rob  so  many  other  women  of 
their  lovers  and  their  husbands. 


76  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

The  interview  with  Mr.  Howard  was  not  very 
encouraging  to  our  friends  at  first.  He  did  not  mani- 
fest, in  the  beginning,  the  enthusiasm  that  they  had 
hoped  for. 

"It  is  a  preposterous  idea,"  he  said,  "to  hope  to 
rid  the  State  of  alcohol  in  a  short  time.  Then,  too, 
I  was  not  elected  from  a  prohibition  platform,  as 
you  know,  and  for  me  to  ally  myself  with  prohibition, 
it  might  injure  my  political  future." 

"But  think  what  a  great  benefit  to  humanity  you 
would  render  should  you  be  successful  in  getting  the 
bill  passed.  You  would  stop  a  traffic  which  injures 
everyone  in  each  community  of  the  State  by  disturb- 
ing public  order,  by  endangering  personal  safety,  by 
demoralizing  legitimate  productive  industries,  and  by 
cursing  the  homes  on  which,  in  the  last  analysis,  a 
nation  is  built,  and  on  which  its  future  citizens  re- 
ceive their  bent  toward  virtue.  Think  what  it  would 
mean  to  you  to  be  able  to  prevent  this  injury,  posi- 
tive and  enormous,  to  the  State  as  a  whole  and  to 
every  individual  in  it.  Does  your  fear  of  political 
injury  outweigh  your  interest  in  humanity?  Is  it 
not  enough  to  make  you  blush  with  shame  when 
you  realize  that  you  are  a  member  of  the  legislature 
which  legalizes  such  a  traffic,  protects  it  with  its 
courts,  its  police,  its  militia  if  necessary — nay,  may 
even  summon  any  citizen  to  take  up  arms  in  its  de- 
fense? This  is  an  opportunity  for  you  to  win  for 
yourself  as  great  glory  as  your  future  hopes  could 
wish.  A  prohibitory  law  effectively  enforced  would 
serve  to  improve  the  character  and  lives  of  so  many 
people.  Saloonkeepers  of  the  State  would  be  forced 
to  go  into  some  decent  business,  which  would  make 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  77 

them  and  their  wives  and  children  better.  Many  a 
young  man  who  has  been  subjected  to  temptation 
and  has  just  started  out  on  the  road  to  ruin  would 
be  saved  by  a  law  shutting  up  the  saloons.  Two 
thirds  of  the  arrests  made  are  for  drunkenness.  We 
cannot  honor  a  Government  which  legalizes  saloons, 
making  men  immoral  by  law.  We  must  have  a  law 
that  will  shield  and  protect  the  young,  the  habit- 
bound  and  the  helpless.  Howard,  the  ultimate  good 
accomplished  by  such  a  law  will  surpass  your  most 
sanguine  dreams." 

After  listening  quietly  to  what  was  being  said, 
Mr.  Howard  spoke:  "Success  in  this  undertaking,  as 
I  see  it,  is  very  improbable.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
nearly  every  member  of  the  legislature  looks  upon 
saloonkeeping  as  a  legitimate  business.  They  will 
object  on  the  account  of  the  effect  of  a  prohibitory 
law  on  the  revenue  of  the  State.  Many  of  them  hold 
that  the  liquor  traffic  has  a  natural  right  to  exist,  and 
that  prohibition  is  opposed  to  personal  liberty. 
They  advance  the  argument  that  because  one  man 
out  of  ten  becomes  a  drunkard  and  makes  a  fool  of 
himself,  there  is  no  reason  that  the  other  nine  should 
be  deprived  of  the  pleasure  of  drink.'* 

"But  you  are  able  to  meet  such  argument  with 
good,  sound  reasoning,"  said  Mr.  Anderson.  "So 
far  as  revenue  is  concerned,  the  saloon  must  pick 
the  pockets  of  the  poor  to  pour  a  thin  golden  stream 
of  revenue.  The  man  who  thinks  the  saloon  helps 
him  to  pay  his  taxes  is  in  sad  error.  You  can  readily 
make  it  clear  that  saloonkeeping  is  not  a  legitimate 
business  but  a  crime.  Business  is  a  service  for 
profit;  saloonkeeping  is  a  profit  without  service. 


78  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

If  a  man  spends  his  money  at  the  grocer's  he 
has  a  supply  of  provisions  in  his  pantry.  If  he 
deposits  it  in  the  bank  he  has  a  bank  account  to  his 
credit.  But  if  he  spends  his  money  at  a  saloon  he 
has  nothing  to  show  for  it  but  a  brutal  temper. 
Business  is  for  public  good,  but  crime  leaves  one  the 
victim  and  the  other  the  victor.  The  sale  of  liquor, 
therefore,  is  not  a  business  but  a  crime  against  the 
man,  the  church,  and  the  State.  Those  who  think 
the  liquor  traffic  has  a  natural  right  to  exist  are  also 
in  great  error.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  a  natural 
right  to  commit  wrong;  nor  should  there  be  a  legal 
right  to  injure  society.  Consideration  of  the  public 
welfare  overshadows  the  rights  of  the  individual. 
On  this  account  the  so-called  personal  liberty  argu- 
ment in  behalf  of  alcoholic  drinks  loses  its  force.  The 
drink  traffic  of  any  State  should  be  suppressed  if  the 
public  welfare  demands  its  suppression.  Any  con- 
dition that  threatens  and  menaces  society  should  be 
suppressed.  In  this  way,  Howard,  you  can  meet 
these  objections  to  prohibition  impressively,  I  am 
sure.  Come,  give  me  your  promise  to  do  your  best 
toward  the  passing  of  this  much-needed  law.  Given 
a  prohibitory  law  in  the  State,  men  like  yourself  can 
bring  on  a  reign  of  righteousness  that  will  do  honor 
to  your  name  forever." 

Mr.  Anderson  extended  an  irresistible  hand,  and 
Mr.  Howard  grasped  it  in  a  heart  clasp. 

What  the  passing  of  that  bill  meant  to  John 
Drew,  no  one  knew  but  himself.  He  hated  alcohol 
as  he  hated  no  other  substance  in  all  creation.  There 
could  be  no  rest  for  him  till  he  could  see  the  entire 
State  rid  of  it  forever, 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  79 

Miss  Grace  realized  the  responsibility  which 
rested  upon  her,  and  the  part  she  must  take  in  the 
accomplishment  of  their  undertaking.  Knowing 
this,  she  resolved  to  do  her  best  loyally  and  cheer- 
fully, and  suffer  herself  to  feel  no  anxiety  and  fear. 
"My  time  and  destiny  are  in  God's  hands,"  she  said. 
"He  has  assigned  me  my  place;  he  will  direct  my 
paths;  he  will  accept  my  efforts  if  they  be  faithful." 

And  they  were  faithful.  For  a  woman  of  Miss 
Grace's  social  standing  to  assume  the  r61e  of  leadership 
of  a  temperance  movement  is  neither  an  easy  task 
nor  a  very  pleasant  one.  The  fact  that  she  was 
Raymond  King's  daughter  had  its  disadvantages  for 
her.  The  general  statement  that  Miss  Grace  King 
had  turned  moralist  and  headed  a  temperance  move- 
ment was  discredited  by  most  of  her  friends  and 
viewed  askance  by  several  of  them.  The  fact  of  her 
parentage  had  its  effect  in  another  channel.  Having 
been  a  natural  social  favorite,  she  had  little  trouble  in 
getting  an  audience  when  she  wanted  one.  In  spite  of 
all  handicap,  she  worked  wisely  and  well.  There  seemed 
to  be  some  inward  wisdom  working  within  her.  She 
never  took  the  wrong  step;  but  every  movement  of 
hers  was  a  carefully  laid  plan — worked  out  methods  of 
handling  the  situation.  Each  effort  was  crowned  with 
success. 

Miss  Grace  at  once  became  a  member  of  the 
Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union.  Heretofore 
she  had  looked  with  absolute  indifference  upon  the 
work  which  this  great  society  is  accomplishing.  Her 
constant  study  and  increasing  knowledge  of  the  work 
done  by  that  society  opened  her  eyes.  The  knowledge 
imbibed  a  new  determination  within  her:  it  created  a 


80  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

hope  of  what  she  might  be  able  to  do  if  allied  with 
this  great  union.  She  took  pride  in  reading  the 
glowing  accounts  of  its  varied  achievements  in  the 
uplifting  of  humanity.  And  well  she  might,  for  the 
great  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union,  during 
the  forty- two  years  of  its  existence,  has  done  a  great 
deal  more  for  society  than  the  average  citizen  realizes. 
In  fact,  few  of  the  best  informed  are  aware  of  the 
great  work  which  it  has  accomplished.  It  has  worked 
silently  but  very  effectively.  Besides  the  aggressive 
warfare  it  has  waged  against  the  alcohol  evil,  it  has 
been  instrumental  in  having  many  States  enact  laws 
prohibiting  the  sale  of  tobacco  to  minors ;  laws  raising 
the  age  of  consent  and  providing  for  better  protection 
for  women  and  girls.  In  this  way  it  has  accomplished 
much  for  the  promotion  of  social  purity. 

Miss  Grace  organized  a  local  Woman's  Christian 
Temperance  Union  and  the  effect  of  that  movement 
was  satisfactory.  The  women,  reluctant  at  first, 
soon  responded  with  enthusiasm.  Miss  Grace  rented 
an  office  in  one  of  the  most  attractive  buildings  in 
the  city,  furnished  rooms  at  her  own  expense,  pur- 
chased literature — the  best  that  could  be  procured — 
literature  that  would  stimulate  their  interest  in  the 
prohibition  movement,  and  at  the  same  time  was  of 
educational  value.  The  importance  of  prohibition  as 
an  educational  factor  was  not  minimized  by  any 
means.  The  work  accomplished  by  Miss  Grace 
during  those  days  and  weeks  and  months  will  ever 
be  remembered  by  New  Gate. 

Mr.  Anderson  observed  all  Miss  Grace's  move- 
ments with  a  great  deal  of  pride.  He  admired  her 
patience,  gentleness,  sweetness,  and  unfailing  energy; 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  81 

he  even  found  himself  renewed  and  invigorated  and 
inspired  by  the  higher  spirituality  of  her — spiritu- 
ality which  is  the  power  that  displaces  falsehood  with 
truth,  selfishness  with  generosity,  and  transforms  the 
hard,  cold,  designing,  worldly  minx  to  a  tender, 
sweet-souled,  divine  woman. 

Her  love  and  interest  in  her  work  brought  such 
a  degree  of  pleasure  to  Miss  Grace  that  it  served  to 
purify,  strengthen,  and  beautify  her  nature.  There 
was  never  a  time  that  she  was  idle.  Her  life  and 
work  gave  her  such  a  mental  impetus  that  it  filled 
her  with  a  sense  of  both  surprise  and  pleasure.  She 
could  hold  an  audience  spellbound  in  her  temperance 
lectures.  It  seemed  that  each  thought  expressed 
stirred  her  to  fuller  forms  of  expression — full  and 
rich  and  deep,  and  never  failed  to  arouse  the  interest 
of  the  least  of  her  hearers. 

At  home  and  alone  in  her  beautiful  room,  after 
some  of  those  effective  meetings,  she  often  reviewed 
the  events  of  the  last  few  months  of  her  life  and  then 
a  consciousness  of  growth  and  change  would  occur 
to  her.  She  felt  as  though  some  distinct  boundary 
line  had  been  passed,  and  realized  that  forces  which 
she  had  not  been  conscious  of  possessing  had  been 
aroused.  Hitherto  the  grooves  of  her  life  had  been 
all  too  easy  and  careless.  Thought,  action,  controll- 
ing power  had  been  extended,  it  is  true,  but  on  matters 
where  the  mechanical  part  was  easily  arranged,  and 
all  that  had  been  required  of  her  was  the  executive 
faculty,  which  it  is  easy  enough  to  employ  with 
every  facility  at  hand.  Her  life  as  a  socialist  had 
been  entirely  too  light,  too  easy  to  bring  out  the  best 
that  was  within  her. 


82  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

Now  all  that  was  changed.  The  problem  of  this 
new  life  and  undertaking  dealt  with  the  stern  realities. 
She  had  to  awaken  to  many  things:  that  nothing 
worth  while  is  accomplished  without  great  labor; 
that  in  order  to  realize  one's  hopes  one  must  begin, 
live,  aspire,  realize  the  best  ideal  of  the  moment,  and 
every  earnest  effort  should  lead  the  way  to  greater 
achievement. 

Often  her  thoughts  reverted  to  that  short  period  of 
her  life  which  marked  its  turning  point — that  wonder- 
ful, vibrating,  palpitating  starlight  time  of  her  awaken- 
ing, against  the  memory  of  which  there  was  always 
her  careless  flirtation;  then  the  marvelous  but  gentle 
leading  of  God's  hand.  How  short  a  time  ago  some- 
thing akin  to  despair  had  seemed  to  belong  to  her 
lover's  death!  Something  of  that,  of  course,  re- 
mained— would  always  be  a  grief  to  be  borne,  like 
any  other  visitation  from  the  hand  which  is  the 
Father's  despite  its  discipline. 


CHAPTER  VI 

ONE  afternoon,  after  a  very  busy  morning,  Miss 
Grace  decided  to  get  a  bit  of  recreation  by  taking  a 
little  pleasure  trip  of  a  few  hours'  duration.  She 
wanted  to  be  alone  and  quiet,  therefore  she  chose  to 
go  away  out  beyond  the  extremity  of  the  car  line 
which  ran  past  her  home — "West  End"  they  called 
it — the  borderland  of  woods  and  hills  and  valleys. 
West  End  afforded  a  wealth  of  picturesque  landscape, 
fresh  air,  and  sunshine.  The  view  of  the  landscape 
from  the  window  all  along  she  knew  would  be  pleas- 
ing and  refreshing. 

It  was  a  fine  day:  the  temperature  springlike,  the 
air  cool  but  delightfully  bracing.  Exquisite  and 
indefinable  indeed  was  the  charm  of  the  early  eve- 
ning, exhilarating  alike  to  mind  and  body,  communi- 
cating its  ineffable  buoyancy  to  the  young  lady's 
somewhat  jaded  energies;  and  for  a  creature  so  re- 
sponsive as  Miss  Grace  to  resist  its  influence  was 
impossible.  Her  spirits  rose  like  mercury:  the 
journey  before  her  assumed  the  promise  of  one 
abounding  in  possibilities  of  interest  and  pleasure. 

The  trees,  still  naked,  were  nevertheless  restful 
to  look  at.  Such  hidden  promise  in  their  millions  of 
branches — promise  of  abundant  life  and  beauty,  sure 
of  fulfillment.  The  fields,  low  hills,  and  woodlands, 
stretching  away  into  the  distance,  were  fairly  magical 
in  color — color  which  seemed  to  her  a  more  delicate, 
ethereal,  divine  thing  than  she  had  ever  seen  or 
imagined  before.  Rounding  a  curve  about  two  miles 

83 


84  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

beyond  the  city's  limit  brought  her  into  full  view  of 
the  city  she  had  left  behind.  Here  and  there  at  vari- 
ous distances  apart  rose  the  graceful  campaniles  of 
distant  churches.  The  sunlight  glittered  on  mag- 
nificent architecture,  and  bathed  the  low,  wooded 
parks  in  dreamlike  beauty.  Miss  Grace  felt  her 
senses  thrilled  by  the  spell  of  the  association — 
uniting  the  wild  freshness  of  nature  with  the  charm 
of  civilization. 

At  the  end  of  the  car  line  she  got  off  the  car  and 
aimlessly  followed  a  little  path  which  led  up  into  the 
woods.  The  air  was  so  fine,  the  sunshine  so  bright, 
that  she  found  herself  worked  up  into  a  transport  of 
joy.  She  was  glad  that  she  had  chosen  this  for  her 
route.  Out  here  she  could  be  alone — away  from  the 
din  of  the  city — to  wander  where  she  pleased.  Little 
birds  twittered  among  the  naked  branches  as  she 
walked  on  up  the  narrow  path.  She  walked  slowly, 
quite  content  to  listen  to  their  suggestive  prattle. 
Her  brain  was  wondrously  quick  to  catch  the  promise 
of  hope  which  they  told  of — the  promise  of  spring 
and  little  warm  nests  full  of  darling  young  birds. 
Now  and  then  she  paused  as  if  to  better  understand 
their  chatter,  then  sauntered  on  up  the  path,  trying 
as  she  went  to  understand  something  of  the  hushed 
and  spiritual  beauty  of  the  land  and  the  silent  woods. 

Two  great,  naked  trees  whispered  mysteriously 
and  mingled  their  sighs  with  the  warbling  of  the  little 
birds.  There  was  no  living  soul  to  be  seen  as  yet. 
That  hour  of  solemn  quietude  and  rest  seemed  all 
for  her  and  her  alone.  She  continued  to  walk  on  up 
the  path  until  at  a  sudden  turn  she  leaned  forward 
in  breathless  surprise,  for  she  found  herself  only  a 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  85 

few  yards  from  a  queer  little  hut.  The  thin  spiral  of 
blue  smoke  issuing  from  the  rickety  chimney  told 
plainly  that  there  were  inmates.  Miss  Grace  had 
never  known  anything  about  the  life  of  the  lowly. 
She  had  never  entertained  a  thought  concerning  the 
lives  of  the  ragged  waifs  who  helped  to  make  up  the 
number  of  inhabitants  of  the  city.  Moved  by  a 
strange  impulse,  she  went  up  to  the  house  and 
knocked  at  the  door,  wondering  in  the  same  instant 
what  she  was  going  to  say  when  her  summons  was 
answered. 

A  few  moments  passed  in  fruitless  expectancy, 
then  she  knocked  again,  more  loudly  this  time. 
Suddenly  there  was  a  slight  shuffling  sound,  and 
then  another  sound  of  objects  falling  on  the  floor. 
Then  she  heard  the  soft  footfalls  of  someone  coming 
to  the  door.  It  was  opened  only  a  little  way,  just 
enough  for  Miss  Grace  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  two 
piercing,  wondering,  half-frightened  eyes  of  a  child. 
A  little  boy  regarded  her  in  silence  without  opening 
the  door  any  wider,  then,  reassured  by  the  stranger's 
smile,  he  slowly  opened  it  wider  and  stood  looking  at 
Miss  Grace  in  open-eyed  amazement. 

"You  live  here?"  asked  Miss  Grace  sweetly. 

"Yes,  my  lady,"  answered  the  boy,  still  regarding 
her  in  wonder.  "Will  you  please — er — come  in?"  he 
asked  presently  in  a  little  voice  breathless  with  awe. 
The  intelligence  which  marked  the  child's  speech 
surprised  the  young  lady  very  much.  She  had  always 
associated  coarseness  and  ignorance  with  peasant 
life. 

She  followed  the  boy  into  the  cabin,  the  interior 
of  which  was  of  the  very  poorest,  but  scrupulously 


86  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

neat  and  clean.  That  the  little  family  which  resided 
there  was  composed  of  people  of  gentle  manners 
Miss  Grace  never  for  a  moment  doubted.  She  began 
to  talk  freely  with  her  little,  bashful  host,  soon  gain- 
ing his  confidence  by  her  simple  questions  concerning 
his  woodland  surroundings. 

He  was  soon  telling  her  some  of  the  wonderful 
secrets  of  his  favorite  haunts.  He  told  her  of  many 
nooky  paths  and  quiet  corners  down  under  the  trees 
by  the  edge  of  the  brook,  where  one  might  bask  for 
whole  hours  in  happy  solitude — a  solitude  so  complete 
that  one  might  easily  imagine  himself  miles  and  miles 
away  from  any  city.  "Often  and  often  do  I  wander 
there,'*  he  told  her,  "stopping  under  the  sweet,  cool 
shade  to  read  some  favorite  book,  or  giving  myself  to 
pleasant  day-dreaming  and  air-castle  building.  "You 
just  ought  to  see  the  brook,"  he  continued;  "it  makes 
a  musical,  rushing  and  gurgling  sound  as  it  flows 
along."  He  told  her  how  the  moonbeams  silvered 
the  trees  above  it  and  transformed  its  waters  to  a 
sparkling  stream  of  light.  Then  he  told  her  of 
another  dell  where  a  little  spring  bubbled.  "In  the 
summer  the  bush  creepers  make  a  tangled  tapestry 
around  it,  and  crimson  and  blue  wild  flowers  form 
dew-beaded  chalices  above  it.  Squirrels  leap  and 
frisk  in  the  leafy  boughs  above;  a  few  feet  below  it 
the  tallest  ferns  grow,"  he  said  in  this  thrilly,  poetic 
treble. 

While  the  boy  talked,  Miss  Grace  noted  his 
striking  personality.  She  felt  a  thrill  whenever  he 
turned  upon  her  his  beautiful  eyes — eyes  habitually 
earnest  and  grave  in  expression,  and  holding  in  their 
brave,  brown  depths  a  sweet,  childlike  reliance  and 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  87 

dependency;  eyes  with  a  certain  deprecating  droop 
as  if  the  child  had  known  the  bitterest  sorrow,  yet 
eyes  which  seemed  to  say,  "I  am  truthful;  I  am  born 
a  gentleman." 

Just  in  front  of  him,  on  a  shabby  table,  there  lay 
a  book  worn  and  ragged  about  the  edges.  Several 
others  lay  upon  the  floor.  It  was  the  sound  of  books 
dropping  on  the  floor  that  she  had  heard  while  she 
stood  outside  the  door  awaiting  admittance. 

Miss  Grace  stooped  and  picked  up  one  which  lay 
near  her.  She  gave  a  slight  gasp  of  surprise  when 
she  read  the  title.  "Plutarch's  Lives"  in  a  home  like 
this  seemed  incredible. 

Suddenly  the  door  was  darkened  by  the  entrance 
of  a  woman,  who  did  not  try  to  conceal  her  look  of 
surprise  at  the  presence  of  a  stranger.  The  little 
host  rose  hastily,  saying,  "Mother,  dearest,  this  is 
Miss — "  he  hesitated,  remembering  that  he  had  not 
yet  learned  his  fair  visitor's  name. 

"Miss  King,"  said  Miss  Grace,  smiling  one  of 
her  dazzling  smiles,  which  never  failed  to  warm  the 
coldest  heart. 

"I  am  delighted  to  meet  you  and  your  little  son," 
she  said  in  half  apology  for  her  strange  and  unusual 
presence  in  this  house. 

The  touch  of  hauteur  which  at  first  marked  the 
woman's  bearing  melted  away  and  she  beamed  a 
mother's  smile  of  welcome  as  she  attributed  this 
lovely  young  woman's  presence  to  the  fact  of  some 
secret  intimacy  with  her  little  son.  He  was  always 
making  friends — that  little  son  of  hers. 

Miss  Grace  took  in  the  woman's  personality  at  a 
glance,  and  was  convinced  of  her  gentle  breeding. 


88  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

Hers  was  a  personality  which  mere  words  of  descrip- 
tion here  cannot  give  justice.  Her  rare  combination 
of  gentle  dignity  with  profound  force,  of  a  set  reso- 
luteness of  purpose  with  a  philosophical  patience, 
her  physical  equipoise,  even  in  the  mere  details  of 
her  simple  dress,  indicated  a  certain  aristocratic 
exclusiveness.  She  somehow  gave  to  Miss  Grace  the 
presentment  of  a  queen  who  by  the  irony  of  circum- 
stance was  exiled  in  this  lonely  cabin  of  the  woods — 
this  solitary  cabin  of  such  pauperish  mien.  From 
the  crown  of  her  proud  head  to  the  soles  of  her  shapely 
feet,  she  gave  distinct  evidence  of  gentle  breeding. 

Miss  Grace's  bearing — quite  innocent  of  any  pry- 
ing curiosity  or  priggishness — soon  evoked  a  spirit  of 
friendliness  and  hospitality.  "Jean,"  said  the  mother, 
addressing  her  little  son,  "bring  the  lady  some  of 
your  nice  brown  nuts.  The  yield  of  nuts  this  year 
has  been  unusual,'*  she  said  to  Miss  Grace,  "and  I 
have  been  fortunate  in  finding  a  ready  sale  for  them. 
Jean  and  I  have  been  especially  proud  of  that  fact 
since  it  has  enabled  us  to  buy  another  one  of  Jean's 
favorite  books." 

"Does  your  little  son  read  those?"  asked  Miss 
Grace,  pointing  to  the  volumes  of  "Plutarch's  Lives," 
Scott's  "Lady  of  the  Lake,"  and  Hawthorne's  "Twice- 
told  Tales." 

"O  yes,  and  it  is  remarkable  how  appreciative 
he  is.  He  has  such  quick  perception.  My  little 
Jean  has  a  passion  for  books.  I  cannot  keep  him 
supplied."  Her  voice  and  smile  were  so  frank  and 
pleasant,  so  free  from  the  previous  restraint,  yet  so 
respectful,  so  gentle  and  womanly,  so  tender  in  her 
praise  of  her  son,  that  Miss  Grace  found  her  own 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  89 

heart  glowing.  While  they  talked,  Jean  returned, 
bringing  a  bag  of  the  greatest,  brownest,  most  per- 
fect pecans  she  had  ever  seen. 

"O,  thank  you,  thank  you — what  perfect  beau- 
ties!" she  said;  and  Jean's  little  heart  glowed. 

Miss  Grace  had  spent  an  hour  in  the  little  cabin 
before  she  realized  that  the  perfect  evening  was 
drawing  to  a  close.  In  the  midst  of  their  happy 
chatter  she  received  a  sudden  suggestion  of  coming 
night,  and  she  also  noticed  that  the  mother's  atti- 
tude toward  her  became  mitigated  with  a  certain 
uneasy  apprehension  which  she  could  not  conceal. 
She  kept  turning  her  eyes  toward  the  door  as  if  she 
expected  someone.  A  certain  fear  crept  into  the 
eyes  of  little  Jean.  He  gathered  all  his  books  and 
put  them  away.  Over  the  mother's  face  there  seemed 
to  creep  an  expression  of  suffering.  Miss  Grace  felt 
an  oppression  in  the  air,  and  wishing  to  avoid  further 
intrusion,  she  arose  to  go. 

She  went  swiftly  to  Jean,  bent  and  kissed  his 
high  forehead  which  bore  such  a  strong  mark  of  in- 
telligence; thanked  him  again  for  his  rich  gift — 
longing  to  slip  a  shining  gold  piece  into  the  little 
hand.  But  thinking  it  might  wound  the  little  donor's 
pride  to  offer  him  gold  for  his  generous  gift,  she 
thought  of  another  plan  and  turned  to  say  a  parting 
word  to  Jean's  mother. 

"I  shall  see  to  it  that  Jean  gets  all  the  books  he 
wants — may  I?"  she  said,  as  she  went  towards  the 
door. 

"A-rr-r— books— blamed— b-books!  I'll  burn  hell 
out  of  'em!" 


90  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

Both  women  started  and  looked  toward  the  door. 
Rage,  humiliation,  fear,  scorn — all  struggled  to  gain 
supremacy  in  this  mother's  face. 

Jean  sprang  up,  his  two  small  fists  clinched  in 
anger  as  he  confronted  the  red-eyed  brute-man  who 
staggered  into  the  room.  It  was  his  drunken  father! 
Miss  Grace  fell  back  against  the  wall — astounded. 
She  could  not  have  received  a  greater  shock  if  a  lion 
had  walked  in  at  the  door. 

The  drunken  man  made  one  stride  toward  the 
rigid,  defiant  form  of  his  little  son.  Suddenly  the 
mother  hurled  her  body  with  all  force  against  him — 
a  blow  which  sent  him  crashing  to  the  floor,  knock- 
ing his  head  against  the  table  as  he  fell.  Miss  Grace 
stared  at  this  tragedy  in  frozen  horror.  All  at  once 
the  woman  turned  to  her: 

"Go!"  she  said,  "this  is  no  place  for  you!" 

Miss  Grace  moved  swiftly  out  of  the  door  and 
fled  down  the  narrow  road.  The  evening  had  length- 
ened into  early  twilight.  She  heard  the  plaintive, 
sad-sweet  melody  of  the  wood  dove. 

While  she  was  hurrying  along  toward  the  street 
car,  she  heard  the  rapid  approach  of  footsteps  in 
pursuit.  She  started  to  run  faster,  but  thought  of 
little  Jean  and  turned  to  look  back  without  checking 
her  pace.  It  was  Jean's  mother.  Her  beautiful  face 
was  pale  and  melancholy,  her  lovely  eyes  moist  with 
recent  tears;  an  expression  of  troubled  passion  lurked 
within  their  depths.  What  a  piteous  look  she  gave 
the  wondering  Miss  Grace!  What  speechless  sorrow 
swam  suddenly  into  her  lovely  eyes!  She  strove  to 
speak,  but  her  lips  only  trembled.  The  tears  began 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  91 

to  rain  down  her  cheeks.  Her  tears,  the  sincere  out- 
flow of  a  pure  woman's  grief,  fell  like  dew  upon  the 
younger  woman's  heart,  and  for  the  moment  Miss 
Grace  was  stricken  with  sympathy. 

"Oh,  I  do  hope  you  can  forgive  me — forgive  us, 
you  beautiful  creature!"  she  said  between  her  violent 
sobs.  "It  was  such  a  cruel  blow  to  our  happy  little 
meeting — his  coming  in  like  that  and  threatening 
Jean — my  little  Jean!  O,  why  did  you  ever  come 
to  our  little  cabin  of  sorrow?  Forgive  me  for  detain- 
ing you,"  she  said,  forcing  herself  to  calmness.  "I 
simply  could  not  bear  to  have  you  leave  without 
knowing  something  of  our  unhappy  life — without 
warning  you  never  to  come  again  so  long  as  my 
husband  continues  to  drink  as  he  does." 

Miss  Grace  started  involuntarily.  That  brute 
the  husband  of  this  queen — the  father  of  little  Jean 
— impossible ! 

"It  is  true,"  the  poor  mother  moaned,  as  if  an- 
swering Miss  Grace's  thought.  "He  is  my  unhappy 
husband — my  little  Jean's  father.  He  was  a  good 
man  once.  He  was  honest,  intelligent,  upright,  and 
a  gentleman.  He  came  from  one  of  the  best  families, 
and  was  a  man  of  great  promise  until  he  took  to 
drink.  He  began  his  downward  career  a  few  months 
after  our  little  Jean  was  born.  His  many  friends 
induced  him  to  join  their  fashionable  clubs.  He  was 
so  frank  and  open-hearted  that  they  all  loved  him. 
He  soon  became  a  social  favorite,  falling  in  with  all 
their  ways,  drank  beer  and  whisky,  and  gambled. 
He  continued  to  go  on  in  this  way  until  finally  I 
awoke  to  the  terrible  truth  that  I  was  a  drunkard's 
wife — too  late!  He  went  from  bad  to  worse.  All 


92  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

we  possessed  was  soon  swallowed  up  in  drink.  Unable 
to  bear  the  shame  and  the  humiliation,  I  induced 
him  to  move  here — away  from  my  former  friends — 
to  see  if  I  could  cure  him  of  the  awful  habit.  I  have 
only  succeeded  in  seeing  ourselves  reduced  to  abject 
poverty,  with  no  hopes  of  his  recovery.  Were  it  not 
for  poor  little  Jean,  I  could  commit  suicide.  Jean 
is  my  only  hope  of  happiness  in  this  life — my  one 
ray  of  sunshine.  He  is  an  unusual  child — precocious 
to  the  point  of  genius.  If  I  can  only  succeed  in  keep- 
ing him  from  following  in  the  footsteps  of  his  poor 
father,  he  will  be  a  wonderful  man  some  day.  Now 
you  have  learned  our  sad  story,  and  for  my  son's 
sake  I  will  ask  you  to  please  think  kindly  of  us — 
Jean  and  me,  especially  Jean.  Your  coming  to  us 
in  our  poor  cabin  was  like  having  a  visitor  from 
another  world.  Our  grateful  hearts  shall  never  for- 
get you.  Jean  will  dream  of  you  night  and  day;  the 
memory  of  you  will  be  an  inspiration  to  him.  Now 
good-bye  forever,  sweet  young  woman.  May  God 
bless  you  always!"  With  those  words  she  turned  and 
hurried  back  along  the  narrow  road  to  her  lonely 
home  of  sorrow,  shame,  and  patient  endurance. 

Miss  Grace's  journey  to  her  own  home  was  a  sad 
one.  She  could  never  forget  the  poor  mother's  story 
and  little  Jean's  danger.  Little  Jean  had  impressed 
her  deeply.  Here  was  a  lad  peculiarly  endowed  with 
personal  power.  What  a  magnificent  specimen  of 
manhood  this  youth  promised;  what  infinite  possi- 
bilities beckoned  him  onward!  What  a  sublime 
spectacle  it  would  be  to  watch  this  youth  going 
straight  to  his  goal — working  his  way  up  through 
difficulties,  surmounting  every  obstacle,  encounter- 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  93 

ing  dangers — but  never  turning  his  eye  from  the 
goal!  How  beautiful  was  that  mother's  love!  What 
a  pity  if  this  good  woman's  life  should  never  be  re- 
stored to  its  original  height  from  which  it  had  been 
so  cruelly  dethroned  by  alcohol!  That  possibility 
lay  in  the  son's  future  attainments.  It  lay  within 
his  power  to  finish  the  wreck  or  to  rebuild  it  into  an 
elegant  mansion.  How  Miss  Grace  adored  the  mother 
for  cultivating  her  son's  aesthetic  faculties!  It  was 
evident  that  she  had  taught  him  to  find  in  the  land- 
scape, the  valley,  the  hills,  the  fields,  the  meadows, 
the  flowers,  the  laughing  brook  which  ran  back  of 
their  house,  riches  that  no  money  could  buy — 
beauties  that  enchant  the  angels.  How  good  the 
fact  that  she  was  teaching  him  every  day  to  see  them, 
appreciate  them,  to  read  their  message,  and  to  re- 
spond to  their  affinity!  Surely  this  mother's  beauti- 
ful patience,  love,  and  endurance  would  have  its 
reward.  Surely — O  God!  surely  the  idolized  little 
Jean  would  not  one  day  become  like  his  father — a 
physiological  hulk  wrecked  on  passion's  seas  and  fit 
only  for  a  danger  signal  to  warn  others.  Surely  this 
lad  of  such  wonderful  promise,  and  this  beautiful, 
refined  mother,  were  not  destined  to  perish  like  lovely 
flowers  plucked  by  the  hand  of  a  grim  destroyer. 
Yet  this  thing,  terrible  as  it  seemed,  was  a  probable 
possibility  as  long  as  alcohol  flowed  freely  in  the  land. 
A  vision  of  another  little  boy  that  had  once  been — her 
beloved  Robert — rose  before  her.  That  young  man,  so 
beautifully  endowed  with  manly  qualities,  in  spite  of 
his  father's  utmost  caution,  had  fallen  a  victim  to 
alcohol.  No,  there  was  no  sure  hope  of  escape  for  the 
little  Jean.  Under  the  prevailing  circumstances  only  a 


94  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

miracle  could  save  him.  But  Miss  Grace  resolved 
that,  if  the  proud  mother  would  allow,  she  would  aid 
largely  in  creating  a  chance  for  the  boy. 

A  degree  of  sadness  crept  into  Miss  Grace's  heart 
as  she  awoke  to  the  sad  realization  of  all  the  splendid 
opportunities  which  she  had  lost — opportunities  for 
helping  the  struggling,  ambitious  poor  to  work  their 
way  to  success.  She  thought  of  the  many  glorious 
hours  she  had  ruthlessly  wasted  in  frivolous  pastime; 
the  riches  spent  in  useless  pleasure — riches  which 
might  have  helped  some  youth  of  promise — like  little 
Jean.  Her  heart  ached  with  pain  when  she  thought 
of  how  those  two,  the  mother  and  son,  had  to  grapple 
with  hardships,  wrestle  with  poverty,  in  order  to 
buy  a  book  for  Jean's  hungry  little  soul.  He  would 
never  starve  for  books  again  so  long  as  she  had  a 
penny.  She  shuddered  again  when  she  thought  of 
the  awful  danger  in  which  he  stood.  Something 
must  be  done  to  save  him.  It  could  be  done  and  it 
must  be  done.  Alcohol  must  no  longer  continue  to 
rob  the  world  of  its  children  of  genius. 

It  was  a  very  determined  young  woman  who 
stepped  off  the  car  in  the  gathering  dusk  and  ascended 
the  elegant  steps  of  her  home.  Henceforth  nothing 
should  daunt  her  courage.  She  felt  that  if  she  had 
a  thousand  lives  to  give,  she  would  gladly  surrender 
them  all  to  the  work  of  destroying  the  evil  which 
threatened  little  Jean,  and  thousands  of  others  like 
him.  Now  in  her  thought  of  active  work  for  the  good 
of  humanity,  all  seemed  to  be  moving  toward  peace; 
and  Miss  Grace  could  almost  hear  her  lover's  voice 
bidding  her  to  be  of  good  cheer  and  go  on  with  the 
work  which  lay  so  plainly  before  her. 


CHAPTER  VII 

AT  last  the  time  came  for  the  attempt  at  passing 
the  all-important  bill.  The  day — the  very  hour  ar- 
rived. The  bill  had  been  formulated  by  Mr.  Howard 
and  started  out  on  its  interesting  and  intricate  course 
through  which  all  bills  must  pass  before  they  are 
enacted. 

It  was  referred  to  a  committee  for  its  critical  con- 
sideration. Many  of  the  enemies  of  the  cause  hoped 
that  it  would  never  be  recorded;  but  through  the  in- 
fluence of  Mr.  Howard,  the  bill  was  reported  with 
the  recommendation  that  "It  do  pass."  It  was  then 
set  as  the  special  order  for  Thursday — three  days 
hence. 

The  site  of  the  State  capitol  was  beautiful.  It 
was  built  upon  a  gradual  summit,  from  which  there 
was  a  charming  panoramic  view  of  the  whole  neigh- 
borhood. 

Thursday  dawned — a  fine  day,  with  plenty  of 
sunshine;  an  Italian  sky  above,  and  the  air  so  clear 
and  bright  on  every  side  made  the  handsome  walls 
of  the  capitol  glitter  in  such  dazzling  splendor  that 
it  hurt  the  eyes. 

In  obedience  to  the  summons  of  the  three  ardent 
workers  for  the  prohibition  cause,  there  was  a  gen- 
eral gathering  of  rank,  wealth,  and  beauty;  and  the 
doors  of  the  capitol  had  never  given  admittance  to 
more  numerous  guests  than  on  that  particular  occa- 
sion. Without  any  extravagance  of  eulogy,  the 
spectacle  must  be  termed  splendid.  The  most 

95 


96  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

beautiful  sight  of  all  was  the  turnout  of  the  Woman's 
Christian  Temperance  Union.  There  came  repre- 
sentatives from  all  over  the  State.  They  came 
wearing  their  badges  of  white  ribbon,  and  their 
merry  eyes  twinkled  in  excitement  born  of  expectancy 
and  hope.  Their  cheeks  were  brought  into  full 
bloom  by  the  clear,  frosty  air. 

The  day  was  uncommonly  fine — being  a  day 
which  stood  on  the  borderland  between  winter  and 
spring.  The  air  was  just  cold  enough  to  be  bracing, 
and  lent  its  aid  in  making  the  whole  aspect  of  the 
stirring  citizens  cheerful  and  full  of  hope.  They  heeded 
not  the  cold,  for  the  air  was  so  intensely  clear  and  dry 
and  bright  that  the  temperature  was  not  only  endur- 
able but  delicious.  Finally,  when  they  occupied 
every  space  in  the  galleries,  everybody  seemed  in- 
tensely interested  and  hopeful  in  the  outcome  of  the 
prohibition  bill. 

John  Drew,  all  his  faculties  stretched  to  a  dan- 
gerous tension,  sat  near  Miss  King.  His  brain  was 
a  chamber  of  conflicting  emotions.  He  sat  tense, 
his  hands  clinched  as  if  he  would  be  ready  to  grapple 
with  some  foe.  Miss  Grace  and  her  uncle  never 
dreamed  of  the  state  of  excitement  their  companion 
was  in.  Had  they  been  cognizant  of  that  fact  they 
would  have  been  somewhat  alarmed  for  his  safety. 

Miss  Grace  herself  was  calm,  confident,  and 
hopeful.  She  had  done  her  best  loyally  and  cheer- 
fully, suffering  herself  to  feel  no  anxiety  or  fear. 
"My  time  and  destiny  are  in  God's  hands,"  was  her 
constant  thought.  "He  has  assigned  me  my  place; 
he  will  direct  my  paths;  he  will  accept  my  efforts  if 
they  be  faithful." 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  97 

The  hour  arrived.  After  devotion  and  the  House 
had  been  declared  ready  for  business,  Mr.  Howard 
immediately  called  for  a  reading  of  the  bill.  After 
it  had  been  read,  he  made  a  short  speech  in  which 
he  gave  logical  reasons  why  this  bill  should  be  written 
in  the  statute  books  of  the  State.  Then  a  general 
debate  commenced.  The  ardor  and  enthusiasm 
manifested  soon  reached  its  height;  the  outlook  for 
the  passage  of  the  bill  seemed  favorable.  The  weak- 
kneed  arguments  advanced  by  those  who  opposed 
State  prohibition  were  met  with  denunciation  and 
sound  reasoning  by  the  friends  of  prohibition — such 
arguments  as  these:  "The  liquor  traffic  has  a  natural 
right  to  exist";  "It  is  opposed  to  personal  liberty"; 
"Prohibiton  don't  prohibit"  (a  statement  which  is  as 
faulty  in  logic  as  it  is  in  grammar);  "Saloonkeeping 
is  a  legitimate  business,"  etc.  Some  even  advanced 
the  argument  that  prohibition  attempts  to  remove 
temptation  from  men,  while  God's  plan  is  to  permit 
temptation  to  exist  in  order  to  strengthen  man's 
moral  power,  therefore  prohibition  is  not  in  accord 
with  God's  method  (as  if  man  must  take  sides  with 
the  devil  in  order  to  prove  the  Lord  a  true  prophet). 
"You  can't  make  a  man  good  by  law,"  another  as- 
serted. 

"But  we  have  made  men  bad  by  law,"  was  the 
answer.  "The  purpose  of  a  prohibitory  law  is  not 
to  make  the  drunkard  moral  and  the  saloonkeeper 
virtuous,  but  it  is  to  protect  the  public  against  wrong- 
doing. The  supposition  of  any  criminal  law  is  that 
it  should  have  a  restraining  influence  among  men. 
No  doubt  there  is  a  good  deal  less  of  crime  in  the 
State  than  there  would  be  if  we  had  no  criminal  code, 


98  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

By  so  much  are  men  made  better  by  means  of  law. 
A  good  prohibition  law  enforced  would  serve  to  pro- 
tect the  community  against  crime.  Every  com- 
munity has  this  right  to  protect  itself.  You  assert 
that  we  cannot  make  men  moral  by  law:  we  assert 
that  we  certainly  ought  to  stop  making  men  immoral 
by  law,  for  that  is  what  we  do  when  we  tolerate  laws 
which  allow  citizens  to  procure  poisons  which  we 
know  will  destroy  every  vestige  of  morality  in  man." 

"It  is  a  bad  thing  to  have  laws  that  are  not  en- 
forced," said  another.  "After  all,  a  prohibitory  law 
will  not  keep  liquor  out  of  the  State.  It  will  find  its 
way  anyhow  and  set  up  in  the  form  of  blind  tigers." 

"You  make  the  assertion  that  it  is  a  bad  thing  to 
have  laws  that  are  not  enforced,"  came  the  answer; 
"we  assert  that  it  is  a  worse  thing  to  have  laws  that 
decent  people  cannot  respect;  enactments  which,  in- 
stead of  reflecting  the  sentiments  of  the  best  classes, 
only  mark  the  level  of  morality  among  the  lowest 
and  vilest.  Shall  we  put  into  our  statute  books  only 
laws  that  can  be  enforced  without  difficulty?  When- 
ever we  discover  an  existing  evil  that  is  particularly 
favored  by  thieves,  robbers,  and  all  classes  of  crim- 
inals, something  that  will  make  trouble  if  we  try  to 
enforce  laws  that  will  prohibit  it,  should  we  legalize 
the  thing,  encourage  it,  promote  and  protect  it  in 
spite  of  the  mischief  it  will  do  among  men?  No! 
Then  we  ought  not  to  assume  that  attitude  toward 
the  sale  of  liquor.  There  is  no  menace  to  society 
more  dangerous  than  the  saloon.  It  is  more  dan- 
gerous than  the  gambling  house ;  it  is  more  dangerous 
than  counterfeiting — more  dangerous  than  any  other 
evil  in  existence  now  placed  under  the  ban  of  law. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSI BLE  ?  99 

Liquor  is  an  evil  that  demoralizes  everybody  it 
touches  from  the  time  it  issues  from  the  distillery 
until  it  empties  into  the  hell  of  death,  dishonor,  and 
crime.  Think  of  the  suicides,  the  insanity,  the 
abject  poverty,  ignorance,  and  destitution  all  over 
the  State.  Think  of  the  little  naked  children  clinging 
to  the  sunken  breasts  of  starved,  cringing  mothers, 
made  cowards  on  account  of  dastardly  husbands. 
Think  of  the  talented  men  of  genius,  whose  fine 
brains  have  been  wrecked  by  the  devil's  agent — 
alcohol.  It  behooves  us  to  be  consistent  and  treat 
liquor  selling  as  we  treat  any  other  dangerous  evil — 
itself  the  most  dangerous  of  all,  because  it  has  for 
its  accursed  merchandise  men  and  women  and  their 
unborn  children." 

In  this  manner  rival  sentiment  passed  until  the 
enthusiasm  reached  its  height.  Fortune  seemed  to 
smile  in  favor  of  prohibition.  But  there  was  one 
present  who  had  not  spoken.  Pearson  was  an  aged, 
gray-haired  member  of  the  legislature — a  man  whose 
influence  was  remarkable — a  fact  due  to  his  age  and 
experience.  Hitherto  he  had  been  silent,  listening  to 
their  arguments  with  a  great  deal  of  interest.  Now 
he  arose  in  all  the  calm  dignity  of  his  bearing  and 
made  some  remarks  which  decided  the  fate  of  the 
anti-liquor  bill  almost  instantly. 

"In  making  the  State  dry/'  he  said,  "we  will  be 
doing  it  a  much  greater  injury  than  benefit.  We  will 
succeed  in  checking  the  State's  progress  in  a  large 
measure — cutting  off  revenue,  transferring  our  trade 
— and  yet  only  leaving  a  very  small  clean  spot  on 
the  liquor  map.  If  a  State  prohibition  law  is  passed, 
it  faces  a  hostile  attitude  on  the  part  of  the  Federal 


100  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

Government  in  many  particulars.  The  regulation  of 
interstate  commerce  belongs  to  the  national  Govern- 
ment. A  dry  State  cannot  prevent  other  States 
shipping  liquor  into  its  territory.  You  are  all  aware 
of  the  fact  that  internal  revenue  collectors — repre- 
sentatives of  the  national  Government — do  issue 
license  to  sell  liquor  in  dry  States.  The  friends  of 
prohibition  will  accomplish  a  greater  work — the 
most  effective  work,  and,  as  I  see  it,  the  only  effective 
work — by  ridding  the  nation  of  this  evil.  Let  the 
Government,  in  which  it  is  most  largely  vested,  de- 
stroy it.  Upon  the  Federal  Government  rests  the 
responsibility  of  this  traffic's  red-handed  crimes. 
Make  the  nation  dry,  and  you  will  not  only  bring 
about  complete  prohibition,  but  you  accomplish  it 
without  disturbing  the  State's  commercial  ecuii- 
librium." 

John  Drew  had  listened  to  the  discussion,  his 
heart  buoyed  up  with  hope  one  moment  only  to  be 
followed  by  the  next  moment  pregnant  with  uncom- 
fortable doubts  and  presentiments.  Toward  the  last 
he  became  uplifted  again — so  much  so  that  his  heart 
sang  in  his  bosom.  He  even  sat  there  looking  down 
the  vista  of  future  years,  seeing  their  untiring  efforts 
crowned  with  success.  He  saw  himself  walking  in 
the  midst  of  it,  happy  and  content  all  the  rest  of  his 
life — happy  in  the  glorious  compensation  for  his 
son's  death:  a  condition  which  not  only  gave  him 
peace,  but  afforded  a  wellspring  of  joy  to  thousands. 
He  beheld  himself  in  a  happy  old  age,  gliding  on 
through  peace  and  prosperity  to  a  last  and  holy 
reward,  in  which  he  would  gain  Robert,  Alice,  and 
everlasting  life. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  101 

This  ecstasy  of  thought  carried  him  to  the  very 
pinnacle  of  hope — then  the  words  of  Pearson  cast 
him  back  down — down  to  despair.  As  he  hung 
upon  Pearson's  words,  his  intuition  warned  him  that 
this  man  had  blocked  the  way  of  the  State  prohi- 
bition law  almost  completely.  Before  Pearson  ended 
his  speech — before  the  vote  was  taken  even,  John 
Drew  knew  that  all  was  lost.  Suddenly  he  stopped 
up  his  ears,  but  in  sheer  fascination  removed  his 
fingers  just  in  time  to  catch  the  words:  ''Let  that 
Government  in  which  it  is  most  largely  vested  de- 
stroy it.  Upon  the  Federal  Government  rests  the 
responsibility  of  the  traffic's  red-handed  crimes." 

John  Drew  shuddered.  An  involuntary  groan 
escaped  his  lips;  his  hands  clinched  themselves  in 
stonelike  rigidity.  "My  God!"  he  cried,  "who  is 
responsible?" 

The  vote  was  taken:  prohibition  was  defeated. 

John  Drew  never  quite  realized  when  or  how  he 
reached  his  room.  All  the  old,  pent-up  grief  and 
hurt  which  his  hope  of  victory  had  kept  quelled  dur- 
ing the  campaign  now  burst  loose  with  redoubled 
force.  All  the  terrible  misery,  the  madness,  the  reck- 
less despair  crushed  him  with  a  greater  force  than 
ever. 

He  went  and  sat  in  a  chair  by  the  window.  The 
sunlight  streamed  in  upon  him  as  if  it  strove  to  melt 
the  heart  fast  turning  to  stone.  "Is  there  a  God — 
actually  a  God?"  he  cried.  "Yes;  but  a  cruel,  un- 
forgiving, awful  Being — and  he,  in  all  his  omnipotence 
has  set  himself  against  me — one  poor,  miserable 
soul!  He  whose  proud  will  evolves  the  universe. 
He  has  arrayed  his  mighty  forces  of  heaven  and  hell 


102  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

against  one  miserable  atom  of  his  own  creation,  and 
the  titanic  wheels  of  life,  time,  and  eternity  are  all 
whirling  into  motion  to  grind  me,  a  poor  worm,  down 
to  destruction!  Why?  Simply  because  of  the  ful- 
fillment of  that  terrible  promise — 'Visiting  the  iniqui- 
ties of  the  fathers  upon  the  children  unto  the  third 
and  fourth  generation.'  God!  What  infinite  pains 
he  has  taken  to  destroy  me!  My  last  hope — my  last 
avenue  to  peace — gone!" 

At  that  moment  of  John  Drew's  despair,  Grace 
King  and  her  uncle  were  engaged  in  a  conference  in 
which  they  formulated  plans  destined  to  plant  hope 
once  more  in  that  heart  of  utter  despondency. 

As  soon  as  possible,  Miss  Grace  hastened  to  find 
John  Drew.  As  she  drew  near  to  his  lodging,  her 
heart  quivered  with  apprehension  and  fear  of  danger 
to  her  friend.  Her  steps  sounded  upon  the  threshold, 
and  John  Drew  started  as  if  he  feared  some  fresh 
and  final  stroke  from  the  hand  of  the  Almighty — a 
final  punishment  avenging  his  profane  thoughts  of  a 
moment  ago.  Without  looking  around,  he  sat  quak- 
ing— expectant.  A  tender  hand  was  laid  upon  his 
shoulder,  a  sweet  voice  which  he  had  learned  to 
recognize  and  to  love  came  from  the  tender  soul  of 
Miss  Grace:  "Don't  grieve  so,  dear  friend;  all  is  not 
lost — indeed,  not  so." 

What  was  it  she  was  saying?  All  not  lost!  How 
was  that? 

"We  have  been  defeated  in  this  only  to  make  a 
bigger  attempt.  A  brighter  hope — the  most  glorious 
of  all — lies  before  us.  It  is  the  hope  for  the  greatest, 
most  everlasting  victory  of  all — national  prohibition." 

While  John  Drew  listened,  slowly  the  tension  of 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  103 

his  nerves  relaxed.  A  scalding  moisture  of  unfailing 
tears  blinded  his  eyes.  He  turned  his  face  upward 
and  looked  at  Miss  Grace  for  the  first  time  since  her 
coming.  As  he  looked  up  at  her,  the  sunshine  glit- 
tered on  two  great  drops,  as  large  as  a  child's  tear. 

Miss  Grace  was  moved  with  tenderest  compas- 
sion. Grief,  disappointment,  and  sorrow  had  made 
this  once  strong  man  almost  as  helpless  as  a  child. 
He  regarded  her  with  the  wistfulness  of  a  little  child. 
She  saw  the  dawn  of  a  new  interest  in  his  eyes.  She 
noted  how  white  his  hair  had  become  during  the  last 
few  months.  She  noticed  how  his  hands  shook:  how 
weak  he  seemed,  and  helpless. 

But  she  could  not  guess  how  her  words  planted 
new  hope  in  his  heart.  How  he  loved  her  for  giving 
him  this  hope!  It  was  not  false  hope,  either,  and 
slowly  his  half-dazed  brain  comprehended  her  mean- 
ing. This,  then,  was  God's  mysterious  plan  of 
bringing  about  a  greater  achievement.  It  was  in- 
deed a  new  hope — the  brightest  ever. 

Miss  Grace  was  beautiful — comely  and  quiet,  as 
if  all  her  emotions  had  been  subdued  to  the  peaceful 
tenor  of  her  life.  Another  step  sounded  upon  the 
threshold,  and  Anderson  entered.  The  sight  of  him 
gave  John  Drew  even  more  assurance.  Together  the 
three  talked  and  planned  until  the  daylight  length- 
ened into  evening.  This  rejuvenated  interest  wrought 
wonders  toward  restoring  John  Drew's  mind  to  equi- 
librium. 

"Now  let  us  walk  somewhere  in  the  evening  sun- 
light," he  said  to  Miss  Grace,  after  their  conference 
was  over  and  Mr.  Anderson  had  departed.  "Exer- 
cise, fresh  air,  and  sunshine  are  what  I  need." 


104  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

As  they  walked  down  the  street  there  was  a 
singular  contrast  in  their  two  figures:  he  dark  and 
picturesque,  one  who  had  battled  with  the  world, 
whom  all  suns  had  shone  upon,  and  whom  all  winds 
had  blown  in  a  varied  course;  yet  their  faces,  all 
unlike  as  they  were,  had  an  expression  not  so  alien — 
a  glow  of  kindred  feeling  flashed  outward,  born  of 
one  common  interest.  John  Drew  felt  inspired  by 
her  patience  and  untiring  energy.  If  this  slip  of  a 
girl  could  bear  up  so  bravely,  why  could  not  he? 
For  her  sake  he  must  make  a  strenuous  effort  to 
overcome  those  periods  of  unreasoning  madness. 
"We  will  fight  this  evil  with  all  our  might,"  he  said 
to  her;  "neither  shall  we  be  at  peace  until  we  see 
this  country  free  of  its  poison.  Our  country's  pros- 
perity and  glory  shall  be  our  reward.  There  shall 
be  no  more  brutal  homes  for  young  wives;  no  more 
shall  the  homecoming  of  the  drunken  wretch  assassi- 
nate joy  and  murder  happiness  in  that  sanctuary  of 
love — the  home.  Better  homes  shall  mean  better 
citizens;  and  out  from  ideal  homes  shall  come  ideal 
men  who  shall  hold  the  highest  offices  of  this  country. 
May  God  give  us  strength  to  fight — to  tear  down 
the  temple  of  Bacchus  and  lay  the  foundation  of  the 
magnificent  temple  of  righteousness,  wherein,  with 
appropriate  rites,  there  will  be  celebrated  the  re- 
ligion of  humanity!  Little  girl,  we  shall  see  it — you 
and  I."  John  Drew  had  spoken  more  to  himself 
than  to  Miss  Grace;  but  now  he  turned  to  her  and 
said:  "I  am  glad  you  are  interested  as  you  are. 
Had  it  not  been  for  your  kindly  words  of  hope,  I 
would  now  be  in  the  deepest,  darkest  despair.  No- 
body knows  what  the  loss  of  Robert  is  to  me.  He 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  105 

was  all  I  had  to  live  for — the  center  around  which 
my  life  revolved.  His  happiness  was  the  aim  of  my 
life.  The  love  of  him  made  up  for  everything  else 
that  I  had  lost.  I  loved  him  with  a  passion  such  as 
the  angels  know.  His  childhood  was  my  sunshine — 
my  springtime  of  life.  All  that  I  had  missed  in  my 
own  boyhood  was  made  up  for  in  Robert's. 

" Robert  was  a  perfect  child  and  youth.  I  often 
wondered  at  God's  mercy  in  choosing  me  for  the 
father  of  such  a  son — then  I'd  remember  that  he  was 
Alice's  son,  too;  that  he  was  the  offspring  of  her 
great  love  for  me.  I  could  never  feel  myself  worthy 
of  such  a  wife  as  Alice  and  such  a  son  as  Robert. 
God  was  indeed  merciful:  my  life,  which  could  never 
have  survived  the  loss  of  my  young  wife,  was  bright- 
ened and  blessed  by  this  perfect  son  of  hers.  My 
love  for  him  helped  me  through  all  the  long,  dark 
years  which  followed — helped  me  when  I  needed 
help  most,  helped  me  not  to  lose  sight  of  God!  His 
young  manhood  was  perfect  and  was  my  glory. 
Do  you  wonder  then  that  I  bear  an  everlasting  hatred 
to  the  thing  that  wrecked  his  life?  I  shall  never  be 
content  until  alcohol  be  slaughtered  in  his  stronghold. 
Your  serene,  confident,  and  hopeful  energy  serves  to 
magnetize  one's  will  and  draw  power  toward  one." 

"Triumph  of  success  comes  not  to  doubt  and  dis- 
belief," said  Miss  Grace  softly.  "It  comes  to  sunny 
expectation,  eager  purpose,  and  to  noble  and  gen- 
erous aspiration.  O,  I  have  never  regretted  for  one 
moment  the  step  I  have  taken.  I  thank  you  for 
your  faith  and  utmost  confidence  in  me.  O,  I  am 
so  glad  that  I  did  not  go  all  through  my  life  with  a 
selfish,  purposeless  heart.  I  am  glad  that  my  soul 


106  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

had  its  awakening,  even  though  it  took  sorrow  to 
awaken  it." 

They  walked  on  down  the  street  slowly  and  in 
silence  then.  There  was  little  need  of  words.  These 
two  had  so  much  in  common.  When  they  had  thus 
walked  in  silence  for  a  few  blocks,  Miss  Grace  spoke: 
"How  fortunate  for  us  to  have  secured  the  co-opera- 
tion of  Mr.  Pearson,  of  the  legislature.  He  is  a  man 
of  marked  influence — and  a  gentleman.  It  was 
through  his  influence  that. we  failed  to-day,  yet  he 
afterwards  destroyed  all  our  bitter  feelings  against 
him  by  declaring  his  willingness  to  render  all  the  aid 
in  his  power,  should  we  make  an  attempt  at  national 
prohibition.  He  showed  us  wherein  the  task  of  get- 
ting a  national  prohibition  bill  passed  is  an  enormous 
one,  due  to  the  fact  that  the  world  has  not  been 
prejudiced  enough  against  alcohol. 

"  'It  is  apt  to  be  set  aside  as  an  issue  of  minor 
importance.  Perhaps  we  may  not  be  able  to  accom- 
plish much  for  a  long  time,'  he  told  us." 

Miss  Grace  paused,  then  continued:  "If  this 
should  be  so — using  the  words  of  Catherine  of  Russia, 
'I  beg  you  take  courage;  the  brave  soul  can  mend 
even  disaster.'  ' 

Miss  Grace  had  been  acquainted  with  Robert's 
father  only  a  few  months,  but  her  intuition  told  her 
that  he  would  need  such  advice  often.  His  mind 
and  heart,  wrenched  and  torn  as  they  had  been  by 
grief  and  disappointment,  were  on  the  verge  of 
breakdown. 

He  answered  not  a  word,  but  turned  his  eyes  upon 
her — a  gaze  that  was  eloquent  and  deep  in  gratitude 
and  admiration.  He  thought  he  had  never  seen  her 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  107 

so  glorious.  Her  beauty  was  like  the  noonday  sun — 
it  made  him  glad,  it  made  him  resolute,  it  imbibed 
him  with  new  courage.  This  woman  of  Robert's 
choice  was  not  only  very  beautiful,  but  very  intelli- 
gent. For  a  woman  to  be  wise  and  at  the  same  time 
womanly  is  to  wield  a  tremendous  influence  which 
may  be  felt  for  good  in  the  lives  of  generations  to 
come. 

Time  passed.  Weeks  lengthened  into  months, 
and  the  months  slipped  by  until  a  whole  year  had 
passed.  In  the  meantime  the  advocates  for  national 
prohibition  made  preparations  for  their  ultimate 
effort.  The  first  step  they  took  was  to  confer  with 
members  of  Congress  who  were  from  their  State. 
Unfortunately,  each  senator  and  representative  ab- 
solutely refused  to  take  the  initiative  in  introducing 
a  national  prohibition  bill  before  Congress.  Their 
main  reason  was,  that  prohibition  was  not  in  their 
party  platform.  Each  of  them  feared  that  such  a 
measure  might  mean  his  political  assassination. 

Let  me  beg  of  my  readers  not  to  be  too  harsh  in 
their  judgment  and  dub  these  men  as  cowards  be- 
cause they  feared  political  injury.  Remember  that 
self-preservation  is  the  first  law  of  nature.  It  takes 
a  hero  to  brave  any  kind  of  danger. 

But  in  providing  heroes  in  time  of  crisis,  America 
has  been  most  fortunate.  In  the  dark  days  of  the 
new  Republic,  when  a  hero  was  needed  to  lead  the 
untrained  soldiers  against  the  British  troops — there 
was  a  Washington.  When  that  great  curse,  human 
slavery,  threatened  to  rend  the  American  Govern- 
ment asunder,  there  was  a  Lincoln  to  avert  the 
disaster. 


108  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

Nor  did  the  friends  of  national  prohibition  have 
to  wait  long  to  find  a  champion  for  their  cause.  In 
an  adjoining  State  there  resided  a  man  who  had 
already  startled  the  world  with  his  daring  and  patri- 
otism when  he,  an  officer  in  the  American  navy,  at 
the  risk  of  his  own  life,  braved  the  perils  of  the  sea 
and  the  deadly  fire  of  the  enemy  in  order  to  render 
his  country  a  service  which  should  always  live  in  the 
hearts  of  a  grateful  people.  By  this  brave  deed  he 
had  already  sprung  into  nobility,  worth,  and  service. 

For  months  the  heroic  deeds  of  this  man  had 
been  on  the  lips  of  every  American.  He  was  now  a 
member  of  Congress,  a  representative  from  his  State, 
and  his  voice  had  often  been  heard  in  Congress  in 
favor  of  social  and  political  purity.  He  was  also 
known  to  be  a  friend  to  the  temperance  cause.  Miss 
Grace  had  recently  heard  him  deliver  an  eloquent 
speech  before  the  Woman's  National  Temperance 
Union.  In  this  speech  he  had  declared  himself  in 
favor  of  national  prohibition.  She  had  never  before 
heard  words  used  as  such  powerful  weapons  in  the 
denunciation  of  wrong  and  the  exposition  of  fraud. 
His  scathing  denunciation  of  alcohol  had  made  a  deep 
impression  upon  her. 

After  they  had  failed  to  secure  the  consent  of  the 
congressmen  from  their  own  State,  they  became 
somewhat  baffled;  but  Miss  Grace,  remembering  the 
eloquent  speech  from  the  noted  hero  of  the  State  of 

G ,  remarked :  "If  we  only  possessed  claim  enough 

upon  the  friendship  of  Mr.  Gibson  of  the  State  of 

G to  approach  him  with  this  proposition,  I  feel 

sure  that  we  would  be  successful.  But  perhaps  it 
would  not  be  just  to  ask  him  to  hazard  his  political 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  109 

future  by  serving  us,  since  he  is  not  a  representative 
from  our  State." 

"But  Mr.  Gibson  is  a  personal  friend  of  mine," 
said  Mr.  Pearson.  "I've  known  him  ever  since  he 
was  a  child.  His  father  was  my  boyhood  chum. 
Gibson  is  not  the  man  to  fear  political  death  or  any 
other  death  when  he  feels  that  the  sacrifice  is  for  the 
cause  of  righteousness." 

They  communicated  with  Mr.  Gibson  as  soon  as 
time  permitted,  and  received  the  very  encouraging 
information  that  he  would  gladly  serve  them — in 
fact,  was  himself  planning  to  prepare  a  bill  to  be 
presented  at  the  next  session  of  Congress. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

ONE  week  before  the  time  of  that  session  of  Con- 
gress in  which  the  national  prohibition  bill  was  to  be 
introduced,  John  Drew  went  to  Washington.  His 
impatience  to  be  there  got  the  better  of  him.  Not 
that  he  cared  for  the  city  itself,  but  he  had  an  inde- 
scribable longing  to  get  in  sight  of  the  National  Cap- 
itol wherein  in  a  very  few  days  a  bill  was  to  begin 
its  intricate  journey.  Whether  the  outcome  would 
be  favorable  or  not,  John  Drew  could  not  tell.  He 
was  only  sure  of  the  intense  longing  in  his  heart,  the 
burning  wish  which  seemed  to  consume  his  soul. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  December  and  very  cold. 
The  day  of  John  Drew's  arrival  in  the  city  of  Wash- 
ington was  bright  and  crisp  and  exceedingly  cold. 
At  first  sight  of  the  city  an  indescribable  thrill  passed 
all  over  his  body.  It  was  the  mingling  of  a  thrill  and 
a  chill,  and  it  made  him  shiver.  His  intense  eager- 
ness to  see  the  Capitol  was  childish.  Presently  when 
he  stood  in  full  view  of  the  magnificent  building,  a 
glow  of  delight  overspread  his  whole  countenance. 
He  had  a  perfect  view  from  where  he  stood.  It  im- 
pressed him  as  a  very  fine  building  indeed,  placed 
as  it  ought  to  be  upon  a  noble  and  commanding 
eminence,  from  which  one  could  have  a  splendid 
bird's-eye  view  of  all  the  adjacent  surroundings. 

John  Drew  gazed  long  and  earnestly  upon  that 
great  structure  wherein  only  a  few  days  hence  he 
hoped  to  realize  the  greatest  wish  of  his  heart.  He 
had  yet  to  view  the  interior;  but  just  now  the  ex- 

110 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  Ill 

terior  was  quite  enough.  His  imagination  penetrated 
the  magnificent  walls  and  handsome  pillars  of  stone 
and  created  impressions  of  the  live  pillars  of  the 
great  Capitol.  His  imagination  pictured  this  public 
body,  an  assembly  of  men  bound  together  in  the 
sacred  names  of  Liberty  and  Freedom — a  body  of 
men  who  applied  themselves  in  this  new  century  to 
correct  some  of  the  vices  of  the  old,  to  purify  the  ave- 
nues of  public  life,  pave  the  dishonest,  dirty  ways  to 
position  and  power;  and  who  made  laws  for  the 
common  good  of  mankind.  He  saw  among  them  in- 
telligence and  refinement;  the  true,  honest,  patriot 
heart  of  America — men  of  highest  character  and 
great  abilities;  men  who  stood  hand  in  hand,  shoulder  to 
shoulder  for  the  benefit  and  progress  of  their  country. 
Seeing  this  vision,  John  Drew  smiled  a  most 
gracious  and  benevolent  smile  upon  the  great  Capitol. 
Reluctantly  he  turned  his  face  toward  the  city.  To 
him  it  represented  the  whole  country.  His  gaze 
became  fixed  upon  its  mass  of  buildings,  while  again 
his  imagination  penetrated  the  walls  of  brick  and 
stone,  and  conjured  visions  of  the  lives  of  the  in- 
mates. From  every  chimney  the  blue  smoke  curled 
upward  in  the  frosty  air  like  incense  from  the  altar 
of  domestic  peace.  In  every  home  he  beheld  Bacchus 
lying  dead — his  evil  cup  shattered  into  a  thousand 
fragments.  On  every  hearth  he  saw  bright  fires 
crackling — fires  that  cast  ruddy  lights  upon  glowing 
children,  offsprings  of  healthy,  temperate  parents. 
Their  childish  laughter  filled  his  soul  with  sym- 
phonies, soft  and  sweet — laughter  which  fills  the  eyes 
with  light  and  the  heart  with  joy,  laughter  which 
catches,  holds,  and  glorifies  all  the  tears  of  grief. 


112  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE? 

In  every  home  he  saw  Queen  Love — the  morning  and 
the  evening  star — shedding  her  radiance  upon  the 
parent  and  the  child — Love,  the  mother  of  beauty, 
the  mother  of  melody,  the  builder  of  every  hope, 
the  kindler  of  every  fire  on  every  hearth — Love  that 
makes  earth  heaven  and  men  gods.  And  there  was 
an  ache  of  joy  in  John  Drew's  heart,  for  the  whole 
of  the  horizon  was  filled  with  glory  and  all  the  air 
was  filled  with  wings. 

With  this  twin  vision  in  his  soul,  John  Drew  went 
on  his  journey  to  the  hotel  where  he  was  to  abide 
until  that  day  should  come  when  that  dignified  and 
decorous  body  of  Congress  should  confirm  his  hopes 
and  send  him  forth  along  the  long-sought  avenue  to 
peace.  The  evening  of  his  first  day  in  Washington 
came  to  a  happy  close.  Midnight  and  sleep  blotted 
out  those  happy  thoughts  and  visions,  and  John  Drew 
slept  the  peaceful  sleep  of  a  tired  child. 

For  the  first  day  or  two  after  his  arrival  the  city 
provided  many  objects  of  interest  which  kept  him 
well  occupied.  On  the  third  day  there  occurred  an 
incident  which,  trivial  as  it  seemed  to  everybody 
else,  caused  such  a  turmoil  of  feeling  to  arise  in  the 
heart  of  John  Drew  that  it  threatened  to  shatter  all 
his  glorious  dreams  of  the  future.  When  he  took  his 
place  at  the  table  for  dinner,  he  noticed  the  presence 
of  a  strange  gentleman  of  striking  appearance  at  the 
table  opposite  his  own.  This  table  was  set  for  one, 
and  an  expression  of  expectancy  lighted  up  the  face 
of  the  head  waiter — who  himself  brought  a  bottle  of 
most  carefully  decanted  red  wine,  examining  the 
delicate  color  through  the  fine  glass  with  the  air  of  a 
great  connoisseur. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  113 

To  a  less  casual  observer  the  man's  appearance 
would  have  been  less  marked.  He  was  a  man  of 
about  forty-five  perhaps,  carefully  dressed — a  superb 
figure,  with  a  strong  face  and  eyes  of  gray  velvet, 
lighted  at  times  with  curious  little  steel  points.  A 
very  attractive  and  gentlemanly  person  to  an  ordi- 
nary observer;  but  somehow  the  man  caught  and 
held  John  Drew's  attention  in  a  magnetic  grasp. 
John  Drew  also  noticed  the  obsequiousness  of  the 
waiters,  who  passed  everything  to  the  dignified 
servant,  to  be  placed  before  the  gentleman  by  his 
hand.  After  the  red  wine  had  been  poured  into  his 
glass,  the  gentleman  lifted  it  up  to  the  light  to  see 
the  clear  ruby,  then  swallowed  a  single  gulp,  and 
nodded  his  approval  to  the  waiter,  who  stood  anx- 
iously waiting  his  verdict  the  while. 

John  Drew  watched  every  movement  of  the 
strange  gentleman — watched  without  knowing  why: 
saw  him  finish  his  fourth  glass  of  wine,  and  seeing, 
shuddered.  But  why  should  he  shudder?  Wine  had 
been  served  daily — though  perhaps  not  such  expensive 
sort — ever  since  he  had  been  there  at  the  hotel. 
Why  should  not  this  man  take  it?  Why  not? 

It  was  not  until  after  the  stranger  had  finished 
his  meal  and  had  passed  out  that  John  Drew  had  the 
question  answered  for  him,  by  learning  the  identity 

of  the  man.    "It  is  Senator  B ,  of  K ,"  he  was 

informed. 

Senator   B .     One   of  that  chosen   number! 

John  Drew  almost  rushed  out  the  door  into  the  open. 
It  was  a  miserable  day — chilly  and  raw,  a  damp  mist 
falling,  cold  and  wintry.  John  Drew  had  seen  a  very 
ordinary  thing — a  senator  partaking  of  alcoholics — 


114  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE? 

that  was  all ;  but  when  he  reached  the  cold  pavement 
he  seejned  to  feel  the  ground  tremble  beneath  his 
feet.  The  cold  mist  shivered  his  frame:  fear  gripped 
his  heart — vague  and  terrible. 

But  that  was  not  all  he  was  to  see.  Other  mem- 
bers of  the  legislative  body  arrived.  Several  of  them 
drank  freely  of  alcoholic  drinks — expensive  wine  and 
beer. 

John  Drew  watched  the  actions  of  these  men  as 
a  child  might  watch  and  wonder  at  the  deeds  of  some 
worshiped  hero,  suddenly  caught  in  the  act  of  doing 
those  things  which  he  himself  had  been  forbidden  to 
do.  He  watched,  fascinated — struck  with  horror. 

When  Miss  Grace  and  her  uncle  reached  Wash- 
ington, they  found  him  in  a  peculiar  state  of  mind 
which  neither  was  able  to  fathom.  They  could  not 
account  for  the  wistful,  childish  expression  in  his 
eyes.  The  groping,  searching  way  he  had  was  puz- 
zling. They  were  unable  to  analyze  the  peculiar 
expression  which  came  over  his  face  whenever  he  was 
thrown  into  the  presence  of  any  member  of  that 
distinguished  body. 

Miss  Grace  observed  all  this  with  a  secret  dread, 
fearing  that  John  Drew's  mind  might  give  way  under 
the  strain.  She  strove  with  all  her  might  to  divert 
his  attention  as  much  as  possible  by  going  about  the 
city,  visiting  places  of  interest,  pointing  out  to  him 
many  interesting  curios  and  mementos  of  historic 
events.  After  such  jaunts  he  would  always  seem  to 
be  restored  almost  to  normality — at  least  he  tried 
hard  to  make  a  brave  showing  before  his  friends. 
But  in  his  room,  alone,  he  would  pace  the  floor  for 
hours  until  he  would  almost  fall  from  exhaustion. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  115 

After  that  he  would  go  to  his  bed  to  sleep  and  dream, 
sometimes  of  turbulent  waters  and  violent  earth- 
quakes— then  again  he  would  dream  of  a  vast  as- 
sembly where  sat  many  legislators,  who  uttered 
coarse  threats,  who  passed  words  and  even  blows 
such  as  drunken  men  deal  upon  each  other;  men  who 
practiced  despicable  trickery  against  one  another,  and 
engaged  in  dishonest  faction  in  its  utmost  depraved 
and  unblushing  form. 

Those  first  days  of  Congress'  session  were  very 
anxious  ones  for  John  Drew.  Even  Pearson,  Ander- 
son, and  Miss  Grace  found  their  blood  tingling  with 
intense  excitement.  But  never  in  the  history  of  his 
life  had  John  Drew  passed  through  such  an  ordeal  of 
hope  and  despair. 

At  last  the  day  came — then  the  very  hour,  when 
the  Gibson  bill  for  national  prohibition,  prohibiting 
the  sale,  manufacture,  transportation,  exportation, 
and  importation  for  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors  for 
beverage  purposes  not  only  in  the  United  States,  but 
in  all  territory  subject  to  the  United  States,  was  pre- 
sented and  voted  upon  in  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives. It  was  on  the  23d  of  December,  a  day  remem- 
bered ever  afterwards  by  the  friends  of  national 
prohibition. 

The  vote  was  taken ;  but  those  who  were  in  favor 
of  national  prohibition  were  in  the  minority.  The 
enemies  to  the  cause,  using  principally  the  States' 
rights  theory  as  a  bulwark  against  national  prohibi- 
tion, had  won. 

But  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  Gibson  bill  had 
been  defeated,  the  vote  in  Congress  showed  a  great 
triumph  for  the  national  prohibition  movement,  386 


116  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE? 

of  the  433  members  of  the  House  declared  themselves 
on  the  Gibson  resolution  for  constitutional  prohibi- 
tion. The  significance  of  the  action  was  striking. 
The  vote  in  favor  of  the  amendment,  according  to 
statistics,  was  197  to  189  against,  making  a  majority 
of  only  eight  of  those  voting. 

But  perhaps  more  striking  than  the  bare  majority 
of  the  membership  voting  is  the  fact  that  seventeen 
State  delegations  voted  solidly  for  prohibition,  and 
twelve  were  for  it  by  a  majority  vote.  Only  eight 
States  voted  solidly  against  prohibition,  and  only 
nine  additional  States  gave  a  majority  against. 

In  view  of  the  fact  that  only  thirty-six  States 
are  needed  to  ratify  a  constitutional  amendment 
providing  for  national  prohibition,  the  significance  of 
the  action  which  placed  the  congressional  delegation 
of  twenty-nine  commonwealths  out  of  forty-eight 
behind  the  Gibson  bill  is  very  striking. 

''This  achievement  far  surpasses  my  expectation," 
said  Mr.  Pearson.  "It  makes  me  believe  that  the 
liquor  traffic  in  America  is  doomed  beyond  doubt. 
Another  such  glorious  achievement  and  the  victory 
is  won.  The  States'  rights  theory  will  be  compara- 
tively easy  to  overpower.  There  is  nothing  more 
insincere  than  the  statement  that  national  prohibi- 
tion will  violate  the  doctrine  of  States'  rights." 

Suddenly  they  thought  of  John  Drew.  A  simul- 
taneous spasm  of  alarm  passed  over  each  of  their 
faces.  Without  another  word  they  hastened  to  his 
apartment,  where  they  hoped  to  find  him  and  give 
him  comfort.  With  heart  almost  sick  with  misgiv- 
ing, Miss  Grace  led  the  way  upstairs  to  his  room. 
There  they  found  him  in  a  most  pitiful  state.  The 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  117 

look  of  despair  on  his  face  was  touching  indeed.  A 
great  wave  of  pity  swept  the  tender  heart  of  Miss 
Grace. 

"O,  my  dear,  my  dear!"  she  murmured  as  she 
knelt  by  his  chair  and  stroked  his  trembling  hands. 
"You  must  not  give  way  like  this.  Try,  O  try  hard 
not  to  give  way!  Don't  you  see  that  it  could  not  all 
be  accomplished  at  once?  There  must  be  time — a 
long  time,  perhaps,  and  the  victory  will  be  more 
complete.  Do  you  realize  just  what  this  one  single 
effort  of  ours  has  done?  Tell  him,  uncle — tell  him 
just  how  much  ground  we  have  covered." 

All  the  while  the  two  men  talked,  John  Drew  sat 
still — his  eyes  dilated,  his  breath  coming  and  going 
quickly,  but  saying  not  a  word.  Any  man  of  more 
rational  mind  would  have  rejoiced  in  the  achieve- 
ments of  the  day.  Miss  Grace  and  the  others  sought 
wildly  for  words  of  comfort,  striving  to  show  him 
the  folly  of  giving  up  in  despair,  now  that  they  had 
accomplished  so  much  and  the  future  looked  so 
bright. 

But  John  Drew  made  no  response  whatever  to 
their  cheering  words.  This  alarming  attitude  of  his 
made  it  evident  that  a  physician  was  needed  at  once. 

But  there  was  no  real  healing  for  John  Drew. 
His  hurts  had  gone  too  deep.  His  passionate  heart, 
ever  secretly  brooding  on  the  grief  he  had  borne,  had 
caused  his  mind  to  weaken  and  to  almost  give  way. 

All  was  still  in  the  bedchamber  at  Hollyville 
where  John  Drew  lay — faded,  weary,  and  still.  Weeks 
had  passed;  but  with  him  their  progress  had  been 
scarcely  noticed.  He  had  lived  in  a  sort  of  semi- 


118  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE? 

somnolence — a  state  of  stupid,  dull  indifferentism  as 
to  what  went  on  around  him.  A  sort  of  dream-daze, 
wherein  hazy  recollections,  dubious  wonderments, 
vague  speculations  hovered  to  and  fro  without  his 
clearly  perceiving  their  drift  or  meaning.  He  was 
not  in  any  pain — but  was  calm  with  the  dreadful 
calmness  of  stupefaction  and  exhaustion.  His  once 
splendid  body  had  worn  to  emaciation.  His  eyes 
were  large  and  eloquent  of  calm  despair,  born  of 
defeat. 

Miss  Grace  rarely  left  his  bedside,  but  sat  waiting 
for  what  she  knew  must  come  soon.  She  wanted  to 
be  near  when  the  soul  of  John  Drew,  the  patient  long- 
sufferer,  should  enter  into  that  mysterious  Beyond. 

One  evening — the  last  that  John  Drew  spent  on 
earth — Miss  Grace  sat  quietly  by  the  window  in  the 
invalid's  room  looking  out  over  the  landscape  of 
barren  fields  and  hills.  The  sun  had  sunk  low  in  the 
west,  its  slanting  rays  streamed  in  the  window  under 
the  half-lowered  shade  and  reached  across  to  the 
bed  where  the  sick  man  lay.  Miss  Grace  had  not 
observed  that  it  shone  full  on  his  face. 

From  the  window  one  could  always  have  a  per- 
fect view  of  the  setting  sun.  Away  in  the  distance, 
and  rising  above  all  the  suburban  housetops,  there 
was  a  long  range  of  hills.  Many  a  time  had  Robert 
stood  there  watching  the  perfect  disk  of  fire  as  it 
slipped  slowly  behind  these  hills  out  of  sight. 

All  was  quiet — and  John  Drew  lay  watching  the 
sun's  dazzling,  blinding  splendor  as  it  sank  lower  and 
lower.  The  light  did  not  seem  to  affect  his  eyes  in 
the  least,  and  there  was  a  rapt  expression  on  his 
face.  Suddenly  Miss  Grace  looked  around  and 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  119 

started  up  in  reproach  at  her  neglect — hastily  reach- 
ing to  pull  down  the  shade  and  shut  the  offending 
sunlight  from  the  sick  man's  eyes. 

"Please  do  not!"  John  Drew's  voice  was  strik- 
ingly clear  and  distinct  in  spite  of  his  weakness. 
Miss  Grace  stood  transfixed  at  the  divine  expression 
of  his  face  as  he  watched  with  unblinking  eyes  the 
sun  as  it  went  down.  Somehow  she  knew  that  John 
Drew  was  at  last  fulfilling  his  day  and  was  passing 
away  just  as  the  sun  was  passing.  The  whole  room 
was  lit  up  with  a  holy  radiance — not  of  earth,  but  of 
heaven — as  the  sun  sank  steadily,  slowly,  round  and 
shining,  without  a  single  cloud  in  the  horizon — 
beautiful  as  she  had  never  seen  it  before.  The  air 
was  so  clear  that  she  could  note  the  very  instant  that 
it  touched  the  horizon.  Slowly  it  journeyed  down 
to  its  setting,  lower  and  lower  still. 

All  of  a  sudden  John  Drew  stretched  out  his 
arms  and  cried  in  a  clear,  triumphant  voice:  "Alice 
—Robert— Christ!" 

Of  the  sun  there  remained  a  crescent,  a  line,  a 
sparkle  of  light,  then  the  sun  was  gone — and  at  that 
very  moment  John  Drew  entered  into  eternity. 

The  death  of  John  Drew  was  a  shock  to  Holly- 
ville,  and  to  New  Gate  especially.  Everyone  who 
resided  in  those  two  towns  had  become  acquainted 
with  his  sad  story.  By  some  he  was  regarded  as  a 
crank:  but  others  knew  that  he  suffered  a  real  grief. 

The  next  day  after  his  death  the  newspapers  of 
Hollyville  and  of  New  Gate  gave  brief  accounts  of 
his  career,  and  a  detailed  account  of  that  part  which 
related  to  the  death  of  his  son,  and  the  effect  of 
young  Drew's  death  upon  the  father.  The  account 


120  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

in  the  New  Gate  paper  told  how  the  parent,  crazed 
by  grief  after  his  son's  death,  visited  Croggs's  saloon 
with  vengeance  uppermost  in  his  mind.  But  the 
saloonkeeper  pleaded  that  he  was  not  the  guilty  one. 
Pointing  to  his  license,  he  maintained  that  if  wrong 
had  been  done,  those  who  commissioned  him  must  be 
guilty.  Drew  then  went  to  the  city  clerk,  the  city 
council,  the  State's  legislature,  and  finally  carried 
the  matter  before  the  national  Congress — each  of 
which  disclaimed  the  responsibility:  the  city  claiming 
that  this  matter  should  be  referred  to  the  State;  the 
State,  that  it  should  be  referred  to  the  Federal  Gov- 
ernment, and  Congress  claimed  that  national  prohibi- 
tion would  violate  the  doctrine  of  States'  rights,  that  it 
is  a  matter  which  the  States  should  settle  themselves. 

These  conflicting  contentions  on  the  part  of  the 
lawmaking  bodies,  from  the  city  council  to  the 
National  Congress;  the  perpetual  shifting  of  re- 
sponsibility for  the  great  alcoholic  evil,  together  with 
his  recent  bereavement,  wrought  so  heavily  upon  his 
failing  strength  that  he  succumbed  beneath  the 
burden,  which  was  too  heavy  to  bear.  "Thus  ended 
the  life  of  one  of  the  most  respected  citizens  of  Holly- 
ville." 

In  the  Sentinel  of  Holly ville  there  appeared  the 
following  editorial,  under  the  caption  of 

"WHO  Is  RESPONSIBLE?" 

"The  Sentinel  desires  its  readers  to  answer  the 
above  question — each  for  himself.  We  will  state  the 
facts  in  John  Drew's  case  as  they  were  presented 
to  us: 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  121 

"About  thirty  years  ago  there  moved  to  Holly- 
ville,  from  an  adjoining  county,  a  man  and  his  wife. 
The  woman  was  young,  beautiful,  and  accomplished. 
The  man  was  a  descendant  of  one  of  the  best  and 
oldest  families  in  the  State.  But  through  heredity 
and  environment  he  was  in  great  danger  of  becoming 
a  drunkard.  In  order  to  avoid  this,  his  wife  induced 
him  to  move  to  this  county,  which,  as  you  know,  was 
the  first  county  in  the  State  to  go  dry  by  local  option. 
These  two  made  their  home  here  in  Hollyville  and 
the  man  became  engaged  in  the  mercantile  business, 
afterward  becoming  one  of  the  most  successful  mer- 
chants of  the  town.  This  man  was  none  other  than 
John  Drew,  son  of  the  well-known  Colonel  Hamilton 
Drew,  of  New  Gate.  In  less  than  two  years  after 
their  coming  to  Hollyville,  the  young  wife  died  in 
giving  birth  to  their  first  child — a  boy.  John  Drew 
quite  naturally  bestowed  all  his  affection  upon  his 
child.  As  this  boy  grew,  the  father  was  scrupulously 
careful  about  his  training,  seeing  to  it  that  he  re- 
ceived not  only  the  proper  intellectual  training,  but 
the  proper  physical  and  moral  instruction  as  well. 
In  the  careful  training  which  the  lad  received  the 
question  of  alcoholics  was  omitted  altogether.  The 
father  had,  as  he  thought,  a  good  reason  for  this. 
The  boy  was  heir  to  the  inherited  tendency  to  drunk- 
enness; and  the  father,  fearing  to  arouse  the  boy's 
curiosity — with  a  great  amount  of  which  he  was 
especially  endowed — he  thought  it  best  to  omit  the 
subject  of  alcoholics  altogether.  This  may  have 
been  a  sad  error;  but  it  was  thought  to  be  the  best 
policy. 

In  this  manner  the  son  grew  to  young  manhood 


122  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

with  practically  no  knowledge  concerning  the  great, 
impending  evil.  He  finished  his  college  course  in 
Hollyville  College  a  few  months  before  he  was 
twenty-one  years  old.  He  graduated  with  honors, 
and  was  not  only  the  idol  of  his  father's  heart,  but 
was  the  pride  of  all  Hollyville. 

"Shortly  after  he  had  finished  his  course  in 
school,  he  accepted  a  position  in  New  Gate,  the 
former  home  of  his  father.  Here,  through  a  combi- 
nation of  circumstances,  he  learned  to  drink;  and 
drink  led  to  his  death,  for  it  was  while  under  the 
influence  of  whisky  that  he  was  exposed  to  excessive 
cold  weather,  the  result  of  which  exposure  caused 
him  to  contract  a  fatal  illness  which  resulted  in  his 
death.  The  story  of  that  young  man's  death-  is  the 
saddest  that  has  ever  occurred  in  the  history  of 
Hollyville. 

"The  terrible  idea  of  revenge — murder — took  pos- 
session of  the  grief-crazed  father,  and  led  him  to  seek 
the  man  who  sold  his  son  the  poison,  and  to  make 
him  pay  for  the  deed  with  his  own  life. 

"But  when  confronted  by  the  irate  father,  the 
saloonkeeper  lost  no  time  in  showing  him  the  com- 
mission or  license  which  he  had  obtained  at  the 
City  Hall.  The  city  clerk,'  he  pleaded,  'is  the  one 
who  is  responsible.' 

"John  Drew  visited  the  city  clerk,  who  in  turn 
pleaded  that  he  was  only  a  servant  of  the  city  gov- 
ernment. After  hearing  the  city  clerk's  story,  John 
Drew  decided  to  give  up  the  idea  of  revenge,  and  re- 
solved to  dedicate  both  his  time  and  his  fortune  to 
the  work  of  ridding  the  State  entirely  of  this  evil. 

"His  attention  had  been  directed  to  the  city  coun- 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  123 

cil  by  the  city  clerk,  but  this  body  disclaimed  all 
responsibility,  and  directed  him  to  the  State  legis- 
lature. 

"The  State  legislature  said  that  the  responsibility 
for  the  liquor  traffic  rested  with  the  National  Gov- 
ernment. Then  John  Drew,  with  certain  other 
sympathizers,  took  the  matter  before  the  United 
States  Congress.  But  Congress  claimed  that  pro- 
hibition is  a  matter  which  the  States  should  settle. 

'Then  John  Drew  lost  all  hope.  Disappointed, 
discouraged,  unable  to  longer  endure  the  strain,  he 
died,  leaving  the  whisky  evil  still  in  the  country — ' 
the  mystery  still  unraveled. 

"There  has  always  been  a  tendency  for  people  to 
disclaim  responsibility  for  public  evils.  Perhaps  in 
countries  where  the  government  exists  for  the  benefit 
of  the  royal  families;  where  the  expressed  will  of  a 
king  is  the  only  law,  everybody  except  the  king  him- 
self can  claim  immunity  from  responsibility:  but  in 
a  Republic  like  ours,  where  the  government  is  of  the 
people,  for  the  people,  and  by  the  people,  it  is  quite 
different. 

"But  it  is  not  our  purpose  to  accuse.  We  leave 
to  our  readers  to  say  who  is  responsible  for  this  liquor 
evil — who  is  responsible  for  that  recent  tragedy 
which  wrecked  the  lives  of  that  honest,  industrious 
father  and  that  beloved  son. 

"To  be  candid  and  just,  although  it  is  humiliating 
to  do  so,  we  must  claim  a  part  of  the  responsibility 
as  our  own.  The  Sentinel  has  always  been  an  advo- 
cate of  prohibition:  but  after  saloons  had  been 
driven  from  Hollyville  and  Marshall  County,  we 
regarded  our  task  as  finished.  In  this  we  were  mis- 


124  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

taken.  The  press  is  largely  responsible  for  the 
death  of  thousands  of  young  men  who  fill  drunkards' 
graves,  and  for  a  great  deal  of  the  ignorance,  poverty, 
and  suffering  throughout  this  country — yes,  we  are 
responsible.  Now,  since  God  has  given  us  light  to 
see  our  duty,  we  pray  him  to  give  us  strength  to  dis- 
charge it." 

The  above  editorial,  read  by  hundreds  of  people, 
had  its  effect.  It  was  the  aim  of  the  editor  to  set 
the  minds  of  his  readers  pondering  the  liquor  situ- 
ation, and  in  this  he  was  successful. 

The  minister  of  St.  Mark's  Church,  in  Hollyville, 
and  who  was  the  pastor  of  the  two  deceased,  read 
the  editorial,  and  felt  that  a  great  measure  of  the 
responsibility  rested  upon  him.  Although  he  had 
often  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  of  denounc- 
ing the  liquor  evil  from  his  pulpit,  he  knew  that  he 
had  not  done  his  whole  duty.  He  had  not  done  his 
very  best  in  pledging  the  youth  and  populace  of  his 
own  parish  to  do  their  utmost  toward  the  elimination 
of  alcohol  from  their  own  homes  and  the  homes  of 
their  various  friends. 

When  he  thought  of  how  he  had  neglected  so 
glorious  an  opportunity,  he  felt  ashamed — and  with 
this  there  came  a  resolution  to  henceforth  make  his 
pulpit  the  freest  forum  from  which  his  voice  should 
constantly  ring  in  denunciation  of  alcohol. 

Doctor  Morris,  the  family  physician  of  the  Drews, 
after  reading  the  editorial,  and  after  reviewing  the 
pathetic  actions  of  his  half-demented  patient  during 
the  last  year  of  his  life,  found  it  impossible  to  sleep 
that  night.  Every  time  he  closed  his  eyes,  that 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  125 

question,  "Who  is  responsible?"  would  force  itself 
upon  him  in  such  a  tormenting  and  accusing  way 
that  he  began  to  feel  very  like  a  fugitive  from  justice 
who  is  being  sought  to  answer  some  serious  charge. 
The  fact  is,  Doctor  Morris  was  being  arraigned  be- 
fore the  bar  of  his  own  conscience ;  and  the  indictment 
was:  "Thou  art  responsible  for  the  conditions  which 
led  to  young  Drew's  death."  So  strong  was  the  evi- 
dence in  the  form  of  what  appeared  to  Doctor  Morris 
as  neglect  of  professional  and  official  duties,  that  he 
was  oppressed  with  a  sense  of  guilt. 

Doctor  Morris  had  served  as  a  city  and  county 
health  officer,  and  was  at  this  time  a  member  of  the 
State  board  of  health.  He  was  regarded  as  a  very 
efficient  officer — aggressive  in  the  fight  for  better 
sanitary  conditions,  untiring  in  his  efforts  toward 
the  eradication  of  preventable  diseases.  Upon  the 
suggestion  of  the  board  of  health  the  legislature  had 
enacted  laws  seeking  to  protect  the  people  from  those 
diseases  supposed  to  be  caused  by  flies,  rats,  the 
bites  of  rabid  animals,  mosquitoes,  etc.  But  not 
one  word  of  warning  against  the  diseases  caused  by 
alcohol  had  ever  been  issued  by  him  or  any  other 
member  of  the  board.  Why  should  alcohol  enjoy  such 
immunity  from  the  attack  of  the  guardians  of  the  State? 

No  one  knew  better  than  Doctor  Morris  of  the 
different  forms  of  mental  and  nervous  diseases  due  to 
the  use  of  alcohol.  He  was  fully  cognizant  of  the  fact 
that  the  majority  of  the  inmates  of  the  insane  hos- 
pital, almshouses,  and  sanitariums,  suffering  from 
the  different  mental  and  nervous  psychoses,  are  pri- 
marily victims  of  alcohol. 

"There  is  no  doubt  about  it,  Doctor  Morris,"  he 


126  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

said,  addressing  himself  as  he  rose  to  a  sitting  pos- 
ture in  his  bed,  "you  are  in  a  large  measure  guilty, 
not  only  of  the  death  of  young  Drew  and  many 
others,  but  you  are  equally  responsible  for  the  con- 
ditions in  which  the  inmates  of  the  insane  asylum 
yonder  is  found — responsible,  quite  responsible,"  he 
repeated.  "It  is  quite  evident  that  I  am  guilty  of  a 
neglect  of  duty  that  I  am  not  only  under  obligation 
to  perform,  but  a  duty  for  which  I  am  being  paid  to 
perform.  The  ta.sk  of  ridding  the  State  of  the  saloon 
is  primarily  the  work  of  the  medical  profession." 
That  night  Doctor  Morris  got  consolation  only  by 
making  the  resolution  to  bring  the  matter  up  at  the 
next  meeting  of  the  board  of  health.  He  would 
induce  the  board  to  suggest  a  State-wide  prohibition 
law  as  a  health  measure.  He  also  decided  to  prepare 
a  paper  to  be  read  before  the  next  session  of  the 
State  Medical  Association  on  the  subject,  "INEBRIETY 
AS  A  DISEASE."  He  would  perhaps  be  invited  to 
read  it  also  before  the  American  Medical  Association. 
"I  will  not  rest,"  he  said,  "until  not  only  my  State 
but  my  country  shall  be  free  from  alcoholism." 

The  next  morning  after  the  editorial  appeared  in 
the  Sentinel,  Mr.  Douglas,  secretary  and  executive 
officer  of  united  charities  of  New  Gate,  on  reaching 
his  office,  met  a  strange  visitor — a  man  attired  in 
the  garb  of  a  workman.  He  presented  the  aspect  of 
an  engineer,  a  fireman — or  perhaps  a  blacksmith. 
It  was  evident  that  he  had  been  and  was  even  then 
suffering  great  mental  anguish.  Mr.  Douglas  thought 
that  his  visitor  was  a  poor  man,  without  employment 
— a  man  who  had  sickness  or  perhaps  death  in  his 
family,  and  was  there  for  the  purpose  of  seeking  aid. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  127 

"What  can  I  do  for  you?"  asked  Mr.  Douglas. 

"I  want  to  ask  a  favor  of  you,"  was  the  visitor's 
reply. 

"I  know  that,"  said  Mr.  Douglas  somewhat  im- 
patiently; "but  what  do  you  want?" 

"I  want  to  leave  $1,500  with  you,  which  I  want 
you  to  accept;  and  in  the  name  of  the  trustees  of 
this  institution,  the  titles  to  two  tenement  houses  on 
Fifth  Street.  The  income  from  the  rent  of  these 
houses,  together  with  this  $1,500,  I  want  you  to  use 
for  the  relief  of  destitute  families  of  drunkards,  in- 
cluding orphans  and  widows  of  drunkards." 

This  stranger  was  none  other  than  Croggs — the 
Croggs  whom  we  formerly  knew  as  the  saloonkeeper. 
He  was  now  employed  in  a  blacksmith's  shop.  Croggs 
gave  up  his  barroom  business  shortly  after  his  ex- 
perience with  John  Drew.  Until  then  he  had  not 
thought  very  seriously  on  the  comparative  merits 
of  the  different  professions  or  of  the  different  forms 
of  business.  He  had  never  studied  political  economy. 
He  had  been  brought  up  in  a  saloon.  His  father  had 
been  a  saloonkeeper,  and  at  his  father's  death  he 
of  course  came  into  possession  of  the  business  by 
inheritance. 

Croggs  heretofore  had  never  stopped  to  think  of 
where  he  would  be  listed  in  the  catalogue  of  laborers 
— whether  he  would  be  classed  as  a  productive  or 
as  a  non-productive  laborer.  He  had  not  considered 
whether  it  was  right  or  wrong  to  conduct  a  saloon. 
It  was  not  until  after  his  interview  with  John  Drew 
that  he  realized  the  fact  that  the  wealth  of  the  com- 
munity was  not  increased  by  his  labor,  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  his  business  served  to  incapacitate  real 


128  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE? 

productive  laborers.  He  could  not  remember  ever 
having  made  anybody  happy,  but  had  spent  his 
whole  life  spreading  misery  and  wretchedness. 

At  first  Croggs  tried  to  console  himself  by  saying 
that  society  permitted  the  saloon — seemed  to  de- 
mand it — why  should  he  care?  But  somehow  Croggs 
never  did  become  reconciled  to  his  liquor  dispensa- 
tion again.  He  had,  as  I  think  most  individuals 
have,  an  innate  desire  to  be  useful.  Being  now  thor- 
oughly convinced  that  he  was  engaged  in  a  business 
which  was  worse  than  useless,  he  decided  to  sell  out. 
This  he  did,  and  secured  employment  in  a  black- 
smith's shop.  Here  he  put  forth  every  effort  to 
master  the  trade.  When  he  had  made  an  inventory 
of  his  resources,  Croggs  found  that  he  was  worth 
$1,500  in  cash,  and  had  two  tenement  houses  which 
would  yield  him  an  income  of  not  less  than  thirty 
dollars  a  month.  He  first  decided  that  he  would  put 
this  away  in  reserve  against  a  rainy  day,  but  after 
reading  the  editorial,  "Who  Is  Responsible?"  in  the 
Holly vi lie  Sentinel  and  realizing  the  part  which  he 
had  played  in  that  tragedy — and  in  hundreds  of 
others — he  decided  on  another  use  for  the  little  for- 
tune which  he  had  laid  up  for  himself. 

Said  he:  "Others  may  have  been  indirectly  re- 
sponsible for  young  Drew's  death,  but  I  am  directly 
responsible.  I  sold  him  the  pois6n  which  ended  his 
life.  I  am  responsible  for  hundreds  of  widows  and 
thousands  of  fatherless  children.  My  whisky  and 
my  beer  have  washed  away  a  great  deal  more  happi- 
ness than  my  little  fortune  can  ever  replace.  But 
this  is  the  very  best  that  I  can  do  toward  righting 
the  wrong  that  I  have  done." 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  129 

In  this  act  was  not  Croggs  bringing  forth  fruits 
meet  for  repentance?  The  true  penitent  is  not  only 
sorry  for  his  wrongdoings.  He  resolves  to  turn 
away  from  them;  nor  does  he  stop  there,  but  tries 
to  correct  as  much  as  possible  the  wrong  which  he 
has  committed. 

Our  sympathy  goes  out  to  Robert  Drew  and  his 
father,  to  little  Jean  and  his  unhappy  mother — all 
victims  of  one  of  America's  institutions,  the  saloon; 
but  how  many  are  in  sympathy  with  Croggs?  Is  he 
not  also  a  victim  of  the  same  institution?  No  doubt, 
many  men  like  Croggs,  who  have  within  them  the 
possibilities  which  would  have  developed  them  into 
useful  men,  benefactors  of  mankind,  ornaments  to 
the  human  race,  had  not  circumstances  and  environ- 
ment forced  them  to  become  agents  of  destruction. 

In  her  room  at  New  Gate,  Miss  Grace  King  read 
the  editorial  with  thought  and  feeling  too  deep  for 
words.  How  vividly  it  brought  back  to  her  mem- 
ories of  the  years  now  passed — memories  of  all  that 
was  lost  to  her;  memories  of  their  short  struggle,  and 
memories  of  that  last-  day  of  John  Drew's  life. 

Overwhelmed,  she  laid  the  paper  aside,  rose  and 
walked  over  to  the  window.  Resting  her  head 
against  the  casement,  she  looked  out.  The  wonder- 
ful witchery  of  the  solemn  night  wove  its  spell  around 
her.  Great,  glittering  stars  clustered  in  the  heavens. 
A  crescent  moon  swung  high  in  the  eastern  sky  and 
threw  a  weird  light  along  the  marble  palace  next 
door,  and  down  on  the  dark  evergreen  trees  of  her 
own  garden — on  the  lilac  bush,  snow-powdered  with 
splendid,  fragrant  bloom, 


130  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

In  that  wan,  mysterious,  and  melancholy  light 
New  Gate  was  sleeping.  Miss  Grace's  thoughts 
wandered  down  the  little  path  to  the  cabin  where 
she  had  gotten  her  first  glimpse  of  lowly  life.  She 
wondered  how  the  lonely  inmates  fared — if  all  was 
well  with  Jean  and  his  beautiful,  sad-eyed  mother. 
Her  heart  beat  in  tenderest  sympathy  with  those 
two  victims  of  misfortune  and  bitter  sorrow.  She 
shuddered  when  she  thought  of  all  the  two  must 
have  had  to  undergo  since  her  visit  to  them.  Thoughts 
of  the  poor,  wretched  father  filled  her  with  pity. 
Pitiful  indeed  was  the  story  of  that  once  good  life 
now  wrecked  by  alcohol.  How  numerous  were  the 
stories  of  others  all  over  the  city — all  over  the  coun- 
try, and  would  continue  so  long  as  that  chief  cur- 
tailer  of  human  happiness  was  allowed  to  exist. 

As  Miss  Grace  looked  out  over  the  slumbering 
city  her  heart  groaned.  But  her  brave  spirit  was 
not  one  which  brooded  long  in  morbid  fancies. 
With  penetrating,  clairvoyant  vision  she  looked 
down  the  vista  of  coming  years  (let  us  hope  the 
distance  was  not  far)  and  saw  the  people  of  her 
beloved  country  come  into  national  prohibition  as 
their  rightful  heritage  from  the  diligent  sowing,  the 
faithful  prayers,  the  many  sacrifices  of  the  friends 
of  the  prohibition  cause. 

In  this  new  condition  she  saw  millions  of  young 
people  coming  out  of  schools  and  colleges,  standing 
on  the  threshold  of  actual  life,  their  high  ideals  and 
glorious  visions  unthreatened  by  alcohol's  curse, 
their  hearts  full  of  hope  and  big  with  promise,  in  no 
danger  of  alcohol's  fatal  germ  being  spread  through- 
out their  whole  natures,  inoculating  their  ambitions 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  131 

with  its  vicious  virus,  causing  the  high  moral  standard 
to  drop — warping  and  wrenching  the  whole  nature 
out  of  its  legitimate  orbit.  The  mind  of  the  young 
would  be  left  free  to  develop  in  its  natural  manner; 
eyes  unblurred  by  poison,  left  free  to  discover  oppor- 
tunities everywhere;  ears  of  sympathy  would  be 
attuned  to  the  cries  of  those  who  are  perishing  for 
the  want  of  assistance ;  open  hearts,  which  would  not 
want  for  worthy  objects  upon  which  to  bestow  their 
gifts;  willing  hands,  which  would  never  lack  for 
noble  work  to  do.  < 

She  saw  the  hands  of  progress  touch  the  villages, 
the  towns,  the  cities — the  whole  country;  for  all 
those  places  formerly  occupied  by  saloons  would  be 
displaced  by  business  of  worthy  character.  Under 
the  new  condition  she  saw  her  country  waxing 
bounteous  in  wealth — gloriously  bountiful  in  its  pro- 
duction of  efficient  manhood  and  perfect  woman- 
hood. 

To  consecrate  her  life  to  the  work  which  should 
bring  about  a  realization  of  this  mental  vision  seemed 
to  Miss  Grace  at  that  moment  a  mission  far  grander 
than  the  conquest  of  empires,  and  infinitely  more  to 
be  desired  than  the  crown  and  heritage  of  Solomon. 

The  night  wore  on  while  she  planned  her  work 
for  the  coming  years.  While  her  brain  was  at  work, 
she  walked  back  and  forth  with  slow,  uncertain  steps, 
like  one  who,  peering  at  distant  objects,  sees  nothing 
close  at  hand.  Her  beautiful  face  was  pale  and  fixed 
— not  flushed  with  the  gush  of  enthusiasm,  like  the 
jets  of  a  violent  flame,  but  calm  and  fixed  and  full 
of  thought — thought  that  was  a  crystallized  and 
consecrated  purpose. 


132  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

At  last,  when  the  feeble  light  of  the  sinking  moon 
admonished  her  that  the  night  was  growing  old,  she 
stopped  again  to  look  out  over  the  slumbering  city — 
her  heart  no  longer  light,  careless,  and  free,  but  bur- 
dened with  grave  responsibility. 

Miss  Grace  knew  deep  down  in  her  heart  that  the 
disreputable  rum-hole  or  saloon  in  the  cheaper  dis- 
tricts of  the  city  is  not  the  chief  place  which  is  re- 
sponsible for  the  creation  of  the  "drunken  sot";  but 
it  is  at  the  so-called  respectable  bar,  the  fashionable 
rooms  at  these  big  hotels,  the  caf£s  at  men's  clubs, 
the  harmless  beverages  always  served  at  social 
gatherings  in  the  homes  of  respectable  people — these 
are  the  places  that  are  really  responsible  for  the 
wrecks  that  are  "drunken  sots."  They  invariably 
get  the  beginning  of  their  downfall  at  one  or  all  of 
these  high  places  before,  in  the  end,  they  are  seen 
frequenting  the  low  saloons. 

The  history  of  nearly  every  drunkard  may  be 
traced  back  to  the  first  glass  in  one  or  the  other  of 
these  places.  Few  men  ever  become  habitual  drunk- 
ards by  being  induced  to  take  their  first  drink  at  a 
saloon.  The  first  step  is  taken  perhaps  in  the  home, 
where  only  a  harmless  glass  of  wine  is  served ;  or  the 
iniquitous  cocktail  at  the  club  or  caf6,  or  in  the 
fashionable  bar.  The  truth,  that  in  these  high  places 
is  where  the  big  evil  lies,  forced  itself  upon  Miss 
Grace. 

"Ah!"  she  said  in  mournful  tones  of  deep  regret, 
"the  greatest  responsibility  rests  upon  society.  The 
civilization  which  begot  this  evil  must  destroy  it  or 
else  be  forever  branded  with  the  scarlet  letter  of  its 
own  crime." 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  133 

Being  firmly  convinced  of  this,  she  saw  clearly  the 
long,  stony  path  in  which  she  must  henceforth  choose 
to  labor. 

While  she  stood  there  her  lips  moved  in  prayer: 
"Be  pleased,  O  God,  to  make  me  a  fit  instrument 
for  thy  work;  sanctify  my  heart;  quicken  and  en- 
lighten my  mind;  let  me  be  endowed  with  patience, 
perseverance,  and  unwavering  faith;  of  all  things, 
let  me  labor  with  an  eye  single  to  thy  glory.  Let  me 
not  labor  for  any  worldly  applause,  but  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  bringing  about  righteousness  upon  this 
earth.  O,  my  Father,  crown  my  efforts  with  success 
in  thine  own  good  time — thou  knowest  best." 

The  still,  solemn  splendor  of  the  night  spoke  to 
her  soul;  and  out  from  the  depth  of  the  starlit  sky 
there  seemed  to  come  a  sacred  voice  which  soothed 
her  anxious  spirit:  "Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled, 
neither  let  it  be  afraid." 

Calm  and  hopeful  now,  Miss  Grace  retired  to  her 
rest.  Nothing  broke  the  sweet  repose  which  settled 
upon  her  quiet  spirit.  She  slept  on  until  out  of  the 
whitening  east  the  new  day  rose,  radiant  in  bridal 
garments,  wearing  a  single  gleaming  star  upon  its 
pearly  brow.  Then  the  sky  flushed  and  the  hilltops 
glowed,  and  the  abundant  sunshine  streamed  over 
the  world  once  more — streamed  over  the  world  in 
glorious  promise  of  a  new  fulfillment. 

The  first  rays  flashed  into  Miss  Grace's  room, 
falling  warm  and  bright  upon  her  closed  eyelids, 
kissing  them  to  wakefulness  and  the  golden  radiance 
of  a  new  day. 


CHAPTER  IX 

ON  a  beautiful  day  in  July,  several  years  after 
the  death  of  John  Drew,  Miss  Grace  King  stood  on 
deck  of  a  great  liner  which  plowed  her  way  up  the 
English  channel.  For  many  weeks  she  had  been  on 
a  tour  about  the  country.  Feeling  that  a  recluse  life 
would  give  her  only  partial  glimpses  of  that  part  of 
humanity  whom  she  wished  to  help,  she  had  decided 
to  spend  several  months  in  travel,  for  the  special 
purpose  of  making  a  study  of  peasant  life.  Her 
chief  purpose  in  doing  this  was  to  gain  a  thorough 
knowledge  concerning  the  effects  of  alcoholism  upon 
the  peasants.  Having  done  extensive  travel  about 
the  United  States,  she  was  now  about  to  spend  a  few 
weeks  in  Europe  for  the  same  purpose. 

As  the  great  liner  plowed  her  way  up  that  historic 
strip  of  water  toward  the  Hook  of  Holland,  Miss 
Grace  was  struck  with  the  extraordinary  spectacle 
presented  to  her  eyes.  The  channel  was  crowded 
with  vessels,  ranging  from  the  tiniest  submarine  to 
the  most  ponderous  dreadnought.  In  the  narrowest 
part  of  the  strait,  between  Calais  and  Dover,  there 
lay  a  long  line  of  torpedo  boats,  gunboats,  light 
cruisers,  and  destroyers.  Unanchored,  they  extended 
an  unbroken  front,  like  a  regiment  of  cavalry.  It 
was  the  British  fleet,  the  main  line  of  defense  and 
offense  of  the  empire.  As  the  liner  made  her  way 
through  those  floating  forts  of  steel,  those  who  stood 
on  her  deck  saw  in  that  display  only  a  pageant  of 
peace.  The  warm  sun  shone  in  splendor  upon  the 

134 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?    _        135 

spectacle,  and  the  sea  slipped  past  the  great  liner 
with  a  swish  of  molten  gold,  while  the  sky  overhead 
was  blue  with  a  hue  which  can  hardly  be  described. 

It  was  the  birthday  of  King  George  of  England, 
and  the  main  feature  of  the  celebration  was  the 
mobilization  and  review  of  the  British  fleet,  the  pride 
of  the  nation. 

It  was  a  spectacle  which  caught  and  held  the  eyes 
of  all  the  voyagers;  but  none  of  those  who  watched 
that  peaceful  scene  suspected  or  even  dreamed  that 
in  the  background  of  this  beautiful  picture  of  pomp 
and  splendor  there  already  lurked  the  grim  brute- 
visage  of  war — immediate  war,  which  would  involve 
all  Europe  and  eventually  the  whole  world. 

A  few  days  later,  at  The  Hague,  wherein  is  situ- 
ated the  Temple  of  Peace,  while  she  with  other 
tourists  wandered  through  that  magnificent  struc- 
ture of  international  harmony  which  the  munificence 
of  an  American  millionaire  has  given  to  the  world, 
they  had  no  dreams  that  at  that  very  moment  the 
ambition  of  an  imperial  nation  was  operating  to 
plunge  the  world  into  the  most  hideous  war  that 
has  ever  been  known  to  civilization. 

However,  those  happy  holiday  makers  were  not 
destined  to  remain  long  in  ignorance,  for  not  many 
days  passed  before  they  caught  rumors  of  war  and 
were  warned  to  return  to  America  immediately. 

August  1st,  a  few  days  after  Miss  Grace's  arrival 
at  New  Gate,  marked  the  beginning  of  the  world's 
struggle,  when  Germany  declared  war  upon  Russia. 
The  reader  knows  that  for  a  period  of  five  months 
the  world  looked  in  wonder  upon  that  nation's 
almost  uninterrupted  success;  and  looked  in  horror 


136  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

upon  that  period  of  France's  greatest  peril,  and 
Belgium's  supreme  agony.  We  know  also  that,  so 
far  as  America's  relation  in  the  struggle  was  con- 
cerned, it  looked  at  first  upon  the  European  nations' 
strife  with  somewhat  indifferent  eyes;  but  as  the 
struggle  progressed,  America  began  to  watch  with 
increasing  abhorrence  and  amazement  those  methods 
of  war  employed  by  the  imperial  German  govern- 
ment— methods  which  gave  evidence  more  and  more 
of  that  government's  character  and  aim. 

Soon  the  time  came  when  American  citizens, 
sailing  on  American  ships,  under  American  flags, 
were  slain  by  German  submarines  in  absolute  and 
vicious  disregard  of  a  nation's  rights.  Then  indeed 
did  America  awake  to  the  appalling  fact  that  not 
only  was  the  freedom  of  the  European  nations 
menaced,  but  the  rights,  the  liberty  of  every  demo- 
cratic nation  was  imperiled  by  the  purpose  of  these 
people  to  rule  the  world. 

We  know  further  that  at  last  America,  thoroughly 
aroused  from  its  dream  of  peace,  becoming  fully 
awake  to  the  dangers  which  threatened  all  those 
sacred  ideals  for  which  democracy  stands,  arose  in 
splendid  determination  that  absolutism  must  go 
down  in  defeat. 

So  great  a  national  cause  naturally  evoked  the 
patriotic  service  of  every  true  American.  For  a 
short  period  the  prohibition  cause  became  somewhat 
obscure  before  the  more  vital  questions  which  agi- 
tated the  country.  All  America  became  absorbed  in 
the  one  great  task  of  winning  the  war  for  humanity. 

Opportunity  for  patriotic  service  rapped  upon  all 
doors,  from  the  richest  to  the  poorest.  It  fell  to  the 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  137 

lot  of  some  to  make  munitions;  others,  to  run  ships 
and  railroads;  others,  to  work  in  the  mines  and  in 
the  forests;  others,  to  plant,  cultivate,  and  harvest, 
and  still  others,  to  fight  on  land  and  sea. 

Miss  Grace  King,  being  a  true  daughter  of  Amer- 
ica, at  once  began  to  take  inventory  of  herself  to  see 
what  service  she  could  offer  that  would  prove  most 
beneficial  to  her  country. 

The  most  important  thing  in  life  is  bread,  the 
primeval  struggle  being  always  to  appease  hunger. 
To  the  American  housewife  was  consigned  the  great 
business  of  economy.  On  this  one  task  of  the  Amer- 
ican woman  seemed  to  hang  the  fate  of  humanity. 
Knowing  this  fact,  the  housewives  arose  as  a  single 
unit  in  the  great  task  of  conserving  the  nation's  food. 

Miss  Grace,  regarding  food  conservation  as  the 
woman's  vital  problem,  at  once  formed  the  deter- 
mination to  do  her  utmost  along  that  line.  Having 
made  up  her  mind  as  to  the  work  she  intended  to 
do,  she  plunged  into  it  with  religious  enthusi- 
asm. After  first  offering  her  services  to  the  Woman's 
Committee,  Counsel  of  Defense,  she  began  to  take  in- 
finite care  in  acquainting  herself  with  every  possible 
means  of  conserving  food.  She  organized  a  Woman's 
Home  Committee  at  New  Gate,  canning  clubs  and 
various  other  clubs  of  patriotic  origin,  and  began 
work  in  real  earnest. 

The  women  of  New  Gate,  witnessing  the  patriotic 
zeal  of  Miss  Grace,  were  determined  not  to  be  out- 
done by  her;  therefore  it  was  not  long  before  every 
woman  in  the  city,  of  whatever  station,  became 
enamored  with  the  idea  of  "doing  her  bit."  The 
season  of  play  and  lightsome  mood  was  over  for  the 


138  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

woman  force  at  New  Gate;  the  time  for  sterner 
thought  and  vital  action  had  come.  Even  those 
most  prosperous  ones,  who  had  all  their  lives  basked 
in  their  conditions  of  ease,  selfishness,  and  self- 
complacency,  became  patriotic  to  the  point  of  self- 
denial  and  personal  sacrifice. 

During  those  times  New  Gate  underwent  a  sort 
of  transformation.  The  influence  of  the  women's 
committees  penetrated  every  home,  and  the  spirit, 
finally  taken  up  by  adjoining  cities  and  towns,  soon 
became  spread  over  a  vast  territory  in  the  South. 

In  this  strenuous  time  of  worldwide  strife  and 
turmoil,  it  seems  that  the  only  institution  in  America 
which  remained  deaf  to  all  appeals  of  patriotism, 
and  which  continued  to  ally  with  the  enemies  against 
those  subjects  vitally  related  to  the  successful  prose- 
cuting of  the  nation's  war,  was  the  selfish,  unscrupu- 
lous liquor  traffic.  This  fact  caught  the  attention  of 
Miss  Grace  and  stirred  all  her  dormant  hatred 
against  this  curse  of  the  American  people.  She  ob- 
served with  jealous  hatred  the  continued  work  "of 
this  ruthless  industry,  took  strict  notice  of  the  vast 
amount  of  the  nation's  much  needed  food  which  it 
consumed. 

"Uncle,"  she  remarked  to  her  kinsman  one  day, 
"the  desire  to  continue  the  fight  for  national  pro- 
hibition has  been  woven  into  the  very  warp  and 
woof  of  my  life.  I  am  drawn  to  it  by  the  irresistible 
force  of  my  everlasting  hatred  against  alcohol." 

She  was  standing  by  the  window,  looking  out 
over  the  smoking  factories,  past  the  thick  masses  of 
buildings,  over  and  beyond  the  restless  surge  and 
grind  of  the  city's  traffic,  to  the  lovely  hills  and  woods, 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  139 

where  nestled  the  tiny  hut  of  her  friends,  Jean  and 
his  beautiful,  sad-eyed  mother.  She  was  silent, 
thinking  of  the  little  family,  and  of  her  own  blighted 
hopes.  Her  fond  uncle  looked  up  at  her  and  was 
moved  with  compassion.  The  girl  seemed  to  radiate 
a  new  beauty.  As  he  looked  at  her  he  thought  he 
had  never  seen  a  more  perfect  profile,  nor  a  counte- 
nance that  expressed  such  a  beautiful  blending  of 
wistful  longing,  of  patient  fortitude,  and  saintly 
resignation.  Hers  was  the  face  of  a  madonna  after 
the  crucifixion — pathetic  in  its  lonely  sorrow,  but 
inspiring  in  its  spiritual  strength  and  holy  in  its 
purity  and  depth  of  character.  Her  beauty  was  of 
the  kind  which  is  revealed  only  in  the  faces  of  those 
who  have  been  fortunate  enough  to  have  experienced 
the  one  grand  passion  to  the  utmost  bounds  of  the 
human  capacity — all  its  exquisite  joy,  all  its  ex- 
quisite pain,  all  its  tenderness,  all  its  cruelties,  all 
its  high  idealism,  all  its  broken  hopes.  This  young 
woman,  in  that  one  brief  period  of  her  awakened 
love,  from  the  time  that  she  had  opened  her  eyes 
that  first  dazzling  instant  and  the  spirit  of  unbridled, 
irresistible  youth  had  burned  brightly  and  had  com- 
pletely captivated  young  Drew,  had  felt  love's 
keenest  delight,  its  most  stinging  pain;  had  sounded 
its  profoundest  depths,  and  found  it  of  a  quality 
that  is  as  sublime  as  it  is  human. 

Her  uncle  knew  that  this  great  love  had  proved 
a  blessing  to  her,  for  it  had  been  the  means  of  trans- 
forming his  beloved  kinswoman  into  the  being  who 
stood  before  him  now — a  woman  of  broadest  sym- 
pathies and  great  kindness  of  heart.  How  he  wished 
her  mother,  his  only  sister,  might  have  been  like  her! 


140  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

Turning  her  glorious  eyes,  brimful  of  hidden 
purpose,  upon  him,  she  said:  "Uncle,  the  Govern- 
ment tells  us,  and  rightly,  that  saving  is  a  patriotic 
duty.  During  these  strenuous  times  every  living 
thing  in  the  United  States  is  feeling  the  pressure  of 
economy.  Increased  taxation,  the  high  price  of  food 
and  clothing,  the  need  of  aiding  America's  soldiers  in 
their  self-sacrifice,  the  complete  disarrangement  of 
ordinary  industrial  and  commercial  conditions,  have 
made  rigid  economy  necessary.  But  bearing  this 
yoke  of  economy  gives  a  sort  of  pleasure,  because  we 
feel  that  we  are  doing  it  for  the  grand  purpose  of 
making  all  the  people  and  all  the  resources  of  the 
country  supremely  effective  in  this  fight  for  hu- 
manity. The  Federal  Department  of  Agriculture  is 
urging  the  increase  of  food  production.  The  United 
States  Food  Commissioner  is  busily  engaged  in  its 
effort  to  conserve  and  control  the  consumption  of 
food.  The  food  that  America  saves  will  go  far 
toward  winning  the  war.  The  American  housewives 
realize  this  and  are  everywhere  striving  to  steer  their 
domestic  crafts  to  the  port  of  wartime  economy.  In 
response  to  the  Federal  Department  of  Agriculture, 
the  farmers  all  over  the  country  are  making  special 
efforts  to  produce  full  crops  from  every  acre  under 
tillage  in  the  United  States.  War  gardens  are  being 
planted,  canning  clubs  organized — all  for  the  purpose 
of  taking  care  of  the  nation's  food.  But  there  is  no 
doubt  that  with  all  our  efforts  to  economize,  the  food 
situation,  as  the  months  shall  advance,  is  going  to 
become  most  critical.  Proper  economy  makes  it  our 
duty  to  cut  out  every  expenditure  that  does  not 
definitely  contribute  toward  American  efficiency. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  141 

But  while  all  this  patriotic  response  to  the  request  of 
the  authorities  is  going  on,  does  it  seem  just  and  fair 
that  our  Federal  Government  should  allow  any 
traffic  to  exist  which  persists  in  manufacturing  the 
nation's  much  needed  food  into  a  poison  which  robs 
the  country  of  its  efficient  manhood  and  patriotic 
womanhood,  and  which  continues  to  strike  bread 
from  the  lips  of  our  men,  women,  and  children? 

"I  have  been  making  a  special  effort  to  estimate 
the  amount  of  food  which  this  ruthless  traffic  is  con- 
suming while  we  are  struggling  along  with  our  great 
problem  of  economy.  Of  the  principal  grain  crops  of 
the  United  States,  barley,  wheat,  rye,  corn,  and  oats, 
it  is  estimated  that  the  liquor  traffic  uses  annually 
2.25  per  cent:  the  grain  destroyed  by  being  con- 
verted into  liquor,  if  conserved,  will  save  11,000,000 
loaves  of  bread  a  day.  The  brewing  of  beer  alone 
destroys  from  fifty  to  sixty  million  bushels  of  grain — 
and  the  fanners  are  urged  to  produce  more  grain!" 

"There  is  no  doubt  about  it,  Grace,  my  daughter," 
said  her  uncle;  "the  loss  of  the  liquor  industry  would 
mean  a  tremendous  gain  in  foodstuffs.  The  pro- 
hibitionists are  not  blind  to  the  fact  of  this  great 
waste,  and  are  already  urging  the  adoption  of  na- 
tional prohibition  as  a  war  measure." 

"If  national  prohibition  is  adopted  now,  it  will 
be  adopted  as  a  war  measure  exclusively,  I  suppose," 
said  Miss  Grace,  thoughtfully. 

"No  doubt  this  will  be  the  case,"  said  her  uncle. 
"The  Anti-Saloon  League  deems  it  unwise  to  press 
any  further  prohibition  proposal  that  might  delay 
the  passage  of  any  other  important  issues,  They 


142  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

believe  that  the  operation  of  emergency  war  pro- 
hibition will  so  prepare  the  public  for  permanent 
prohibition  that  the  amendment  will  easily  become 
operative.  And  Grace,  dear,  I  think  this  is  a  wise 
step — no  doubt,  the  best  step,  because,  on  account  of 
the  inevitable  strain  upon  the  Government,  the  at- 
tempts of  the  prohibitionists  to  force  the  adoption  of 
permanent  prohibition  at  present  would  not  be  good 
political  strategy  or  statesmanship." 

After  a  long  silence,  Miss  Grace  spoke  again: 
"Uncle,  I'm  wondering  what  can  be  done  to  focus 
the  attention  of  our  Federal  Government  upon  the 
fact  that  in  this  huge,  unparalleled  job  of  winning  the 
war,  this  agent  of  destruction  to  both  physical  and 
moral  forces  ought  no  longer  be  tolerated ;  that  it  is 
the  height  of  folly  to  continue  to  maintain  under  its 
protection  this  oppressive  trade,  this  greatest  enemy 
to  America.  I  wonder  what  I,  a  lone  woman,  can 
do.  If  I  were  only  a  man!" 

"Grace,  dear,  whatever  a  woman  of  your  char- 
acter wishes  to  do  for  the  welfare  of  a  community 
or  a  nation,  if  she  does  it  with  the  zeal  and  religious 
enthusiasm  which  you  have  manifested  in  all  that 
you  have  already  done,  will  be  far-reaching  in  its 
influence.  I  believe  you  have  the  will  and  the  courage 
to  do  all  that  is  within  your  power.  Continue  to  do 
as  you  have  always  done,  and  ask  God  to  bless  every 
effort  you  may  put  forth." 

One  evening  Miss  Grace  walked  back  and  forth 
in  her  elegant  library,  her  thought  concentrated  upon 
a  manuscript  which  she  was  preparing.  The  room 
lent  its  charm  to  her  queenly  figure  as  she  moved 
amid  its  efficient  spaciousness  like  a  goddess  within 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  143 

her  habitual  temple.  There  came  a  timid  knock  at 
her  door,  and  she  opened  it  to  find  Jean  of  the  cabin 
standing  there. 

Miss  Grace  could  not  avoid  remarking  the  ashen 
pallor  and  troubled  expression  of  the  boy's  face. 
"What  is  the  matter,  child?  You  look  as  if  you  are 
either  ill  or  dreadfully  fatigued.  How  is  the  dear 
mother?"  she  asked,  drawing  the  boy  to  a  chair  and 
looking  anxiously  into  his  wistful  face,  while  she 
tenderly  stroked  back  the  glossy  hair  from  his  high 
forehead.  This  youth  had  become  very  dear  to  her, 
like  a  young  brother.  Jean's  lips  trembled,  and 
Miss  Grace  waited 

"My  poor  father  is  dead,"  he  said  simply,  and  a 
great  tear  stood  in  each  eye.  Miss  Grace's  tender 
heart  was  deeply  moved.  She  kissed  the  boy,  whose 
soft  eyes  held  much  misery.  Suddenly  she  left  his 
side  and  for  a  long  time  stood  looking  out  the  library 
window.  The  sun  was  just  going  down  behind  a 
fleecy  cloud-mountain:  great  rays  of  scarlet  shot  up 
from  its  silver  rim,  while  lurid  beams  of  light  streamed 
down  toward  the  horizon.  Vacantly  her  eyes  rested 
on  this  glorious  picture,  but  its  splendor  passed  away 
unheeded,  for  she  was  looking  far  beyond  the  western 
gates  of  day  and  seeing  a  ghastly,  distorted  face 
turned  up  toward  heaven — a  coffined  corpse  ready 
for  its  last  resting  place  of  dishonor  and  shame.  A 
slight  movement  of  the  bereaved  lad  roused  her  and 
she  turned  to  him  again.  There  was  an  inner  light 
from  her  soul  shining  in  her  eyes,  a  look  tender, 
loving,  and  kind  in  their  clear  depths  as  she  drew 
the  boy's  head  against  her  breast. 

Suddenly  she  thought  of  the  poor  mother  alone 


144  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

with  all  her  deep  misery,  and  bade  the  boy  come  with 
her  at  once  to  their  little  hut.  So  they  hastened  to 
her,  whose  proud  head  was  bowed  almost  to  the 
earth  under  the  weight  of  its  grief,  loneliness,  and 
shame. 

The  man  had  met  his  death  in  a  tragic,  dishonor- 
able way,  and  the  poor,  proud  wife,  thus  so  sorrow- 
fully humiliated,  oppressed  with  an  intolerable  sense 
of  desolation  and  isolation,  had  sat  all  day,  her 
aching  head  pressed  close  against  the  window — 
silent  and  awed  by  the  terrible  loneliness  which  sur- 
rounded her.  All  through  the  long  hours  of  the  day 
she  had  sat  there  unmoved,  like  a  statue.  Intermin- 
able seemed  the  dreary  day  to  her  son,  who,  unable 
to  longer  bear  the  sight  of  his  mother's  stony  grief, 
stole  away  to  find  his  beloved  Miss  Grace. 

The  day  finally  drew  to  a  close  and  still  the  poor 
woman  sat  there  until  the  red  light  of  day  died  in 
the  west,  and  until  a  young  moon  hung  her  crescent 
among  the  treetops  and  the  stars  flashed  out  thick 
and  fast.  Softly  the  door  opened  and  Miss  Grace 
and  Jean  entered. 

The  young  woman  drew  the  bowed  head  of  the 
older  woman  to  her  breast,  letting  it  rest  there  while 
she  strove  to  soothe  the  troubled  heart  with  words 
of  love  and  comfort.  She  felt  strangely  drawn  to 
this  mother  and  child.  Out  of  her  own  heart  there 
seemed  to  issue  an  electric  chain  of  sympathy. 

Outside,  God's  changeless  stars  looked  down  upon 
that  lonely  cabin  where  alcohol's  cruel  hand  had 
added  one  more  crime  to  its  enormous  list;  one  more 
example  of  manhood  destroyed,  another  character 
debauched,  the  wreck  of  love  and  happiness  to 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  145 

another  one  of  America's  homes.  A  deep  stillness 
reigned,  broken  only  by  the  stifled  sobbing  of  the 
child.  The  crescent  moon  swung  low  over  the  tree- 
tops  and  threw  a  weird  light  down  on  the  cabin 
with  its  dead  and  bereaved  ones.  Presently  through 
that  wan,  mysterious,  and  melancholy  light  a  bell 
sounded  from  a  distant  section  of  the  city. 

Gradually  Miss  Grace's  troubled  spirit  revived 
and  the  light  of  reason  pointed  further  along  the 
stony  path  before  her.  Mechanically  her  hands 
caressed  the  bowed  head  upon  her  breast,  while  her 
countenance  became  eloquent  with  determination 
and  with  humble  gratitude  to  God  for  giving  her 
wisdom  to  choose  that  path,  with  grace  and  courage 
and  strength  to  pursue  it. 

"O,  my  Father!"  she  whispered,  "bless  the 
work  which  thy  servant  is  doing.  Endow  me  with 
wisdom  and  strength  to  do  whatever  I  can  to  help 
lead  the  way  to  my  country's  future  peace  and 
happiness." 

A  few  days  after  the  quiet  funeral  of  Jean's  father, 
Miss  Grace  set  out  to  her  uncle's  home  on  a  mission 
of  love.  It  was  one  of  those  rare  afternoons  in 
September  when  summer,  conscious  that  her  reign  is 
ended,  with  a  final  exultant  effort  brings  together 
all  her  gorgeous  colors  and  decks  the  world  in  regal 
pomp  and  short-lived  splendor.  The  shade  trees  all 
along  the  streets  stood  thus  splendidly  arrayed, 
while  a  strong,  steady  southern  breeze  caught  the 
leaves  which  had  fallen  and  whirled  them  here  and 
there  in  a  mad,  merry  dance.  Hosts  of  gay  children 
tripped  merrily  home  from  school,  and  it  was  a  de- 
lightful picture  to  see  them  darting  here  and  there 


146  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

in  pursuit  of  some  scarlet  pinnated  beauty  which, 
bewitched  with  an  elfin  spirit  of  wickedness,  whirled 
away  at  the  very  moment  when  the  dimpled  fingers 
thought  them  secure  and  fast. 

As  Miss  Grace  hurried  along,  the  sight  of  the 
ruddy-faced  boys  and  girls  heightened  her  deter- 
mination to  be  successful  in  her  mission,  for  it  per- 
tained to  the  future  welfare  of  her  little  friend. 
Success  in  what  she  had  undertaken  meant  an  op- 
portunity for  his  development  and  education,  at  the 
same  time  protection  from  future  misfortune.  The 
boy  should  have  a  chance  to  rise  above  the  humili- 
ating station  in  which  society's  curse  had  placed  him 
— a  chance  to  climb  up  beyond  the  reach  of  that 
subtle  menace  which  threatened  to  destroy  him.  A 
divine  smile  lit  up  the  young  woman's  face  in  the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  that  she  was  adding  another 
effort  to  her  list  of  trying  to  help  the  struggling  poor 
to  better  environment,  and  in  so  doing  repairing 
her  own  wrongs  to  society  during  that  period  of  her 
reckless,  thoughtless  girlhood.  O,  what  a  blessed 
thing  it  is  to  feel  that  you  are  doing  some  good  in 
the  world:  how  dim  in  contrast  does  the  light  of 
sinful  pleasure  shine  to  the  divine  light  of  usefulness 
— helping  somebody  to  find  life  and  opportunities  in 
which  to  grow  to  perfection! 

She  found  her  uncle  alone.  With  a  smile  of  wel- 
come he  came  to  greet  her,  who,  ever  since  the  death 
of  his  only  son,  followed  shortly  after  by  the  death 
of  his  beloved  wife,  had  been  the  only  means  of 
bringing  sunshine  into  his  lonely  home.  He  had 
always  loved  this  daughter  of  his  only  sister  with  a 
fatherly  devotion.  From  the  time  that  she  could 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  147 

toddle  she  had  been  a  favorite  in  his  home.  The 
dear  wife,  having  no  daughter  of  her  own,  had  lav- 
ished a  motherly  affection  upon  this  child,  who  often 
seemed  to  prefer  their  home  to  her  own.  And  the 
son  of  theirs,  who  through  the  influence  of  alcohol 
had  wrung  their  hearts  with  grief  and  bitter  dis- 
appointment, had  been  her  playfellow  all  through  her 
childhood  and  girlhood.  After  the  uncle  was  de- 
prived of  both  his  nearest  and  dearest,  he  naturally 
turned  to  Grace  for  sunshine,  love,  and  comfort. 

"How  is  my  daughter  getting  on  with  her  work?" 
he  asked,  smiling  genially  upon  her. 

"O,  famously,  uncle.  But  there  is  another  very 
important  matter  which  brings  me  here  to-day — a 
request  which  I  want  you  to  grant  me,  uncle."  She 
paused,  assuming  an  air  of  gravity,  while  her  uncle 
waited  expectantly  with  the  air  of  a  doting  father 
who  is  ever  ready  to  listen  to  the  request  of  an  idol- 
ized son — a  request  which,  even  before  the  asking, 
the  father  knows  he  is  going  to  grant. 

"Uncle,  suppose  the  opportunity  should  come  to 
you  to  take  as  a  protege  a  boy  of  great  promise,  of 
rare  intellectual  ability — but  who  is  a  child  of  very 
unfortunate  circumstances.  Would  you  do  it?" 

"Well,  that  depends,  my  dear.  I  shouldn't  like 
to  become  responsible  for  the  future  of  a  child  of  a 
criminal  or  a  drunkard.  If  the  child  is  the  offspring 
of  clean,  honest,  but  poor  parents,  I  shouldn't  hesi- 
tate to  take  the  responsibility,  but — " 

"Suppose,  uncle,  the  boy's  father  is  a  victim  of 
drink — a  misfortune  which  may  be  acquired,  you 
know,  through  a  combination  of  circumstances  of 


148  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

which  the  poor  victim  may  not  be  altogether  to 
blame.  What  then?" 

Since  her  uncle  vouchsafed  no  answer,  she  con- 
tinued: "I  have  never  told  you  about  a  lad — a 
family  whom  I  learned  to  know  a  few  years  ago,  just 
after  the  sad  incident  at  Hollyville,  uncle.  Since 
then  I've  watched  this  boy,  to  see  his  fine  nature 
struggling  through  the  most  pitiable  conditions  in  its 
attempt  to  come  into  its  rightful  heritage  of  beauti- 
ful, efficient  young  manhood.  I  have  rendered  him 
all  the  assistance  I  could  without  wounding  their 
pride.  His  mother  would  accept  no  further  aid  than 
that  of  providing  books  for  the  boy's  education. 
Not  that  she  is  a  woman  who  is  inculcated  with 
antipathetical  ideas  regarding  people  of  wealth  and 
high  social  standing,  but  she  is  just  one  of  those 
women  who  is  too  proud  to  beg  and  too  independent 
to  complain  or  lament.  She  is  a  very  remarkable 
woman,  uncle — one  of  those  rare  creatures  one  often 
discovers  here  and  there  among  the  extremely  poor, 
a  woman  who  naturally  carries  herself  with  an  air 
of  conscious  self-respect  which  her  shabby  dress 
cannot  hide,  nor  a  robe  of  silk  could  not  enhance." 

"And  the  father?" 

"The  father?  O,  uncle,  another  one  of  those 
debauched  characters,  a  most  wretched  victim  of 
alcohol,  a  poor,  wretched  fellow  who,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  that  diabolical  curse,  has  dragged  into  the 
very  dust  the  name  of — Jean  Richter." 

"Jean  Richter!  Grace,  jmy  daughter,  what  is 
this  you  are  asking  of  me?  What!  Take  Jean 
Richter's  son  under  my  roof  as  my  protege?  The 
very  idea  is  preposterous!'* 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  149 

Mr.  Anderson  arose  and  began  pacing  the  floor. 
He  knew  that  this  strange  request  of  his  niece's  was 
no  idle  one.  But  believing  that  the  young  woman's 
great  love  for  humanity  and  sympathy  for  the  un- 
fortunate and  suffering  ones  had  prompted  her  in 
this  charitable  idea,  he  felt  that  he  must  be  gentle 
with  her.  His  restless  agitation  did  not  arise  from 
mental  debate  as  to  whether  he  would  grant  her 
request,  because  it  never  occurred  to  him  to  grant 
it.  But  his  mind  was  puzzled  as  to  a  best  method  of 
refusal  without  hurting  her.  He  was  convinced  that 
observation  of  the  misery  of  these  people  and  the 
hope  that  she  might  be  instrumental  in  relieving  it 
had  determined  her  course. 

Presently  he  stopped  in  front  of  the  fireplace  and 
leaned  his  great  form  against  the  mantel.  The  blood 
throbbed  in  Miss  Grace's  heart  while  she  sat  waiting. 

Instantly  the  answer  had  sprung  to  Mr.  Ander- 
son's lips,  but  he  had  checked  it  in  order  to  acquaint 
her  with  its  negative  in  the  gentlest  manner.  If  she 
had  been  anybody  else,  he  would  have  brought  down 
his  fist  upon  the  table  with  a  most  emphatic  "No!" 

At  last  he  came  and  sat  beside  her  while  he  said : 
"Grace,  dearest,  do  not  ask  me  to  do  that  which  my 
reason  will  not  permit.  I  have  seen  many  phases  of 
human  nature,  and  watched  the  development  of 
many  characters,  and  have  found  that  the  law  of 
heredity  is  strong — sure.  Think  of  what  I  have 
already  suffered  from  the  hand  of  this  terrible  evil. 
Grace,  this  is  asking  too  much  of  me.  The  fatal 
outcome  for  the  boy  is  inevitable  on  account  of  the 
law  of  heredity.  If  my  own  son  with  his  honest 
parentage  did  not  escape,  what  can  I  hope  for  this 


150  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

boy,  born  with  the  fatal  thirst  woven  into  the  very 
warp  and  woof  of  his  life?  Suppose  I  should  learn 
to  love  him,  as  undoubtedly  I  would  if  he  is  the  rare 
character  you  say  he  is.  Another  disappointment 
would  kill  me.  You  don't  wish  me  to  undergo  such 
another  ordeal  as  the  first.  Grace,  my  dear,  nothing 
could  save  the  boy  from  a  drunkard's  ruin.  Experi- 
ence has  taught  me  that  the  fate  of  the  inebriate  is 
hopeless.  In  spite  of  what  this  boy's  mother  is, 
think  what  his  father  was — think,  Grace!" 

"But,  uncle,"  the  young  woman  pleaded,  "I'll 
admit  that  Richter  was  a  man  of  the  very  lowest 
type;  but  was  he  always  so?  His  wife  tells  me  that 
he  was  from  one  of  the  best  families.  He  became 
what  he  was  after  Jean  was  born.  Can  you  hold 
him  exactly  responsible  for  the  deeds  done  under 
the  influence  of  alcohol?  The  thing  for  which  I  hold 
him  responsible  is  for  allowing  himself  to  take  those 
first  drinks,  which  he  knew  would  perpetuate  into 
debauchery  and  crime.  He  ought  to  be  held  re- 
sponsible for  his  first  yielding  to  temptation,  espe- 
cially if  he  was  wise  concerning  alcohol's  evil  effects. 
He  merits  punishment  for  deliberately  surrendering  his 
will  and  intelligence  to  the  drink  habit,  thus  accept- 
ing the  chance  to  commit  grave  crimes.  But  in  the 
end  his  own  responsibility,  as  with  all  drunkards, 
vanishes  and  he  became  a  victim  of  license  issued 
under  the  sanction  of  a  supreme  government. 

"I  believe  that  this  boy,  given  the  proper  environ- 
ment, will  develop  into  splendid  manhood,  of  which 
the  nation  will  one  day  be  proud.  He  certainly 
shows  marked  evidence  of  his  blessed  faculties: 
whether  they  are  of  maternal  or  paternal  origin,  we 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  151 

are  not  able  to  say,  nor  should  it  matter.  The  fact 
that  he  possesses  them  is  sufficient.  I  am  sure, 
uncle,  that  here,  within  the  pure  atmosphere  of  your 
home,  you  will  witness  the  perfect  unfolding  of  this 
boy's  great  abilities  into  usefulness  and  power,  as  the 
sun  unfolds  into  beauty  and  fragrance  the  tender 
petals  of  a  flower." 

Mr.  Anderson  was  not  unmoved  by  the  young 
woman's  pleading,  nor  insensible  to  her  logic. 

"But,  Grace,  darling,  think  of  that  other  life  no 
less  promising  perhaps — I  do  not  say  this  to  wound 
you,"  he  said,  quickly  observing  the  look  of  pain 
which  passed  over  her  face — "but  I  mention  it  as  a 
sort  of  reminder,  you  know.  The  chances  of  escape 
for  children  born  under  the  best  environment  are 
little  enough;  what  could  you  hope  for  this  child, 
born  with  the  inherited  tendency  toward  inebriety?" 

"Uncle,  I  do  not  believe  that  the  appetite  for 
liquor  is  inherited.  This,  I  know,  is  contrary  to  the 
general  belief.  I  do  believe  that  there  is  inherited  a 
predisposition  to  such  weakness,  so  that  if  the  child 
of  drunken  parents  gains  access  to  alcohol,  the  appe- 
tite is  much  more  rapidly  developed  than  would  be 
with  the  child  of  abstaining  parents.  I  verily  believe 
that  if  the  child  with  the  bad  heritage  abstains  abso- 
lutely, he  will  never  crave  liquor.  I  do  not  believe 
that  the  appetite  for  liquor  is  a  natural  demand. 
Naturally  the  physical  being  rebels  against  the  first 
drink  of  any  alcoholic  beverages.  I  have  seen  (and 
I  blush  with  shame  to  say  it)  green  youths  sicken 
with  the  first  drink,  many  of  whom  could  be  traced 
to  drunken  parentage.  O  uncle!  I  know  to  my 
great  shame  that  it  is  through  the  social  instinct, 


152  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

through  very  natural  and  healthy  impulses,  that  an 
appetite  is  engendered,  which  in  turn  pays  such 
dividends  of  ruin  to  its  victim.  It  makes  me  shudder 
to  think  of  how  much  responsibility  lies  at  my  own 
door  for  having  lured  young  and  innocent  men  on 
to  the  formation  of  this  most  disgraceful  habit.  It 
is  a  sin  for  which  I  shall  give  the  service  of  all  the 
rest  of  my  life  in  atonement.  With  most  young  men 
the  habit  of  drinking  liquor  originates  in  social 
pressure,  and  the  habit  is  the  result  of  persistent 
social  temptation.  Of  course,  after  the  habit  has 
once  been  acquired  it  is  exceedingly  probable  that 
the  drunkard  will  continue  the  practice  in  order  to 
satisfy  the  appetite.  Once  the  habit  takes  posses- 
sion, alcohol  becomes  the  master  and  man  becomes 
the  slave.  After  all,  the  great  question,  'Who  Is  Re- 
sponsible?' is  not  a  hard  one  to  answer.  The  false 
friends  of  society  who  bombard  the  tender  youth 
with  alcoholic  drinks  could  answer  the  question  if 
they  would;  the  wily  barkeeper,  who  picks  the 
pockets  of  the  poor,  robs  men  of  their  money  and 
honor,  who  ruthlessly  commits  crime  against  the 
man,  the  home,  the  church,  the  State,  and  the 
country,  could  answer  the  question.  The  members  of 
our  Federal  Government  who  refuse  to  enact  a  law 
against  drunkenness,  and  allow  alcohol  to  continue 
to  dispense  its  evil  effects  throughout  the  entire 
population,  could  answer  the  question.  This  boy's 
father  was  no  more  born  a  drunkard  than  you  or  I. 
His  wife  tells  me  that  he  was  once  an  honest,  re- 
spectable gentleman.  I  feel  a  deep  conviction  that 
if  we  can  rescue  this  boy  from  the  curse  of  this  sin 
which  threatens  his  life,  we  will  be  rendering  our 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  153 

country  a  service  which  will  be  long  remembered. 
The  effort  is  certainly  worth  while,  uncle,  and  you 
will  agree  with  me  when  you  learn  to  know  the  lad. 
Give  him  a  trial  for  my  sake,  dearest  uncle.  I  will 
be  responsible  for  his  conduct.  If  he  shows  the 
slightest  tendency  to  deteriorate  morally,  I'll  see  to 
it  that  he  is  speedily  removed  from  your  home." 

"Grace,  I  may  seem  to  be  hard — brutal,  but  I  fear 
that  I  must  be  obstinate  in  this.  I  couldn't  have  Rich- 
ter's  boy  here!  Think  of  all  his  being  in  my  home 
would  involve — a  host  of  low  kinfolks  hanging 
around — " 

"There  are  no  kinfolks  but  his  mother,  uncle, 
and  you  need  fear  nothing  from  that  proud,  reserved 
woman." 

"You  don't  know,  Grace,  what  these  people  of 
her  class  will  do  if  you  give  them  a  chance.  You  had 
better  keep  them  at  a  greater  distance  yourself.  A 
certain  kind  of  charity  work  among  them,  such  as 
donating  funds  for  the  improvement  of  their  school 
facilities,  or  for  community  improvement  would  be 
all  right;  but  actually  taking  them  up  with  all  their 
rags  and  filth  and  dirt  into  your  very  arms  is  quite 
another  matter.  I'll  give  these  people  money — no, 
I  can't  think  of  having  Richter's  son  here!" 

Raising  her  face,  Miss  Grace  looked  steadfastly  at 
her  uncle,  and  pain,  compassion,  dread,  and  misery 
filled  her  soft  eyes.  The  stout  heart  melted.  He 
had  never  refused  her  anything;  and  she  had  never 
asked  for  anything  unreasonable.  It  seemed  that  she 
had  never  desired  anything  half  so  much  as  that  he 
should  befriend  Richter's  son.  Her  heart  was  set 
upon  succoring  this  child,  and  he  knew  it  would  be 


154  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

no  easy  matter  to  dissuade  her  from  her  purpose. 
Her  tremulous,  compassionate  face  showed  how  very 
earnest  was  her  wish;  and  should  he  refuse  to  grant 
it,  she  would  resort  to  some  other  means. 

Without  another  word,  Miss  Grace  arose,  drew 
on  her  gloves,  and  started  toward  the  door. 

Unable  to  bear  the  sight  of  her  disappointment 
and  grief,  her  uncle  laid  a  detaining  hand  upon  her 
shoulder,  saying:  "Very  well,  Grace,  I  will  let  you 
persuade  me  in  this,  though  it  is  against  my  better 
judgment.  Remember,  you  have  asked  me  to  do  a 
difficult  thing.  Everybody  around  here  knows  Jean 
Richter,  and  his  son's  lot  is  going  to  be  a  hard  one. 
I  wonder  if  you  are  doing  the  best  thing  for  the  boy, 
after  all." 

"I  have  thought  of  how  hard  it  would  be  for  him 
at  school,  therefore  I  think  best  to  provide  for  his 
private  education,"  said  Miss  Grace. 

"Very  well.  I  think  this  would  be  the  best  for 
all  concerned.  I'll  give  the  lad  employment  here  in 
the  office,  and  the  salary  which  I  pay  him  will  help 
support  his  mother.  If  the  boy  proves  worthy — 
well,  the  future  will  tell." 

"O  uncle!"  said  the  grateful  Miss  Grace,  "I 
can  never  love  you  enough  for  doing  this  for  my 
little  friend.  I  am  sure  that  you  will  never  regret 
doing  this  for  him." 

"I  am  doing  this  for  your  sake,  Grace;  but  you 
must  bear  in  mind  that  life  is  a  long  series  of  dis- 
appointments. The  failure  to  meet  with  your  own 
ideals  both  in  private  affairs  and  in  the  affairs  of  the 
nation  is  sore  disappointment.  But  such  things  are 
inevitable;  you  must  make  up  your  mind  to  them." 


CHAPTER  X 

ALL  was  very  quiet  in  the  little  cabin  under  the 
hills.  Early  dusk  and  twilight  dimly  revealed  two 
figures  huddled  close  and  silent  by  the  low  window. 
They  had  been  sitting  there  for  hours — the  mother 
holding  the  form  of  her  darling  boy  close  up  against 
her  heart  as  if  she  feared  that  death's  cruel  hand 
might  tear  him  from  her  side.  Now  and  then  her 
body  quivered  as  if  in  pain.  Perhaps  she  was  think- 
ing of  the  long,  weary  years  of  sorrow  which  stretched 
out  before  them — years  of  crucial  suffering  and  per- 
haps unfilled  hopes.  How  to  support  herself  and 
boy  was  a  problem  which  she  must  face.  Drink  had 
swallowed  up  almost  their  last  penny.  To  secure 
employment  that  would  pay  enough  to  support 
them  both  and  provide  for  Jean's  education  would 
be  almost  impossible.  It  seemed  that  her  husband's 
dishonesty  and  crime  had  blocked  every  avenue. 
Jean,  suddenly  peering  up  through  the  semi-darkness 
into  his  mother's  face,  thought  he  saw  tears  in  her 
eyes.  Very  sadly  he  watched  the  sweet,  sad  face 
with  its  light  of  love  and  devotion;  and  with  his 
desire  to  see  her  happy,  free  from  care,  and  in  per- 
fect safety;  with  his  manly  longing  to  shield  her  from 
danger  and  suffering,  his  heart  was  made  to  feel  an 
anxiety  far  beyond  his  years.  Presently  he  laid  a 
timid  hand  upon  her  cheek  and  said,  "It  is  such  a 
blessed  thing  to  love,  isn't  it,  mother?" 

A  fierce,  almost  jealous  love  clutched  at  the 
mother's  heart. 

155 


156  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

"I  am  glad,  mother,  that  I'm  big  enough  to  work 
for  you.  I  shall  go  over  to  New  Gate  and  find  em- 
ployment at  once — to-morrow." 

Mrs.  Richter  shuddered  involuntarily.  Life  had 
brought  some  fair  things  for  her  boy  in  the  last  few 
years,  in  spite  of  the  terror  which  had  constantly 
hung  over  them.  She  had  managed  in  some  way  to 
keep  things  as  cheerful  as  possible,  taking  infinite 
care  in  teaching  him  to  find  beauty  and  sunshine  in 
life  in  spite  of  the  gloom  which  overshadowed  them. 
The  woods,  the  fields,  the  hills,  ever  abounding  in 
nature's  wealth  of  treasures  and  pleasures,  had  been 
the  means  of  keeping  this  mother  and  child  above 
the  life  of  utter  despair.  Then,  at  the  very  time  he 
needed  it  most,  God  had  sent  Jean  a  new  friend, 
Miss  Grace  King,  from  the  city.  The  beautiful 
friendship  between  these  two  had  broadened  and 
deepened  until  the  mother  had  at  last  consented  to 
allow  the  young  woman  to  provide  books  which  the 
hungry  soul  of  her  boy  needed  so.  No  further  aid 
would  she  accept,  jealously  guarding  as  her  own  the 
task  of  feeding  and  clothing  his  precious  growing 
young  body. 

But  now — accepting  any  aid,  or  any  notice  even, 
from  the  beautiful  young  woman,  after  everything 
happening  as  it  did,  seemed  imposition  and  in- 
gratitude. If  she  only  had  somewhere  else  to  go  in 
order  to  begin  again,  perhaps  her  lot  would  be  easier. 

"I  am  sure  there  is  somebody  over  at  New  Gate 
who  wants  a  boy,"  Jean  went  on.  "We  shall  not 
need  much — just  you  and  I,  mother — you  know — 
now.  And  we  can  save  so  much — now.  We  won't 
have  to  leave  here,  shall  we,  mother?"  There  was 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  157 

a  sort  of  pleading  in  his  voice  which  the  mother-heart 
understood.  In  spite  of  his  father's  cruelty  and 
drinking,  the  boy's  life  here  had  been  his  happiest. 
He  was  by  nature  a  child  with  the  homing  instinct. 
To  him  this  little  hut  was  home  and  he  loved  it  pas- 
sionately. The  mother  understood  her  boy's  longing 
for  the  hills,  the  woods,  the  little  spring  with  the 
tangled  tapestry  around  it,  the  friendly  squirrels 
which  frisked  and  leaped  among  the  boughs  above 
his  head,  the  rabbits  hopping  unafraid  in  the  tall, 
cool  grass  and  fallen  leaves,  the  gossiping  birds,  and 
all  the  other  forms  of  animal  life;  his  deep  longing 
for  mother  earth  and  country  life — the  life  that  gives 
vitality,  stamina,  courage,  and  all  those  other  quali- 
ties which  make  for  happy  boyhood.  There  was 
nothing  about  her  boy  that  this  mother  did  not 
understand.  Suddenly  the  firm  resolve  that  he 
should  have  his  wish  took  possession  of  her.  All  at 
once  she  was  able  to  glory  in  the  fact  that  she  was 
to  give  him  at  least  his  soul's  desire  to  remain  in  the 
country,  in  the  midst  of  mother  nature's  perpetual 
miracle,  where  he  could  not  open  his  eyes  without 
seeing  a  more  magnificent  picture  than  Raphael  or 
Michael  Angelo  could  have  created  in  a  lifetime — 
pictures  not  only  beautiful  but  perfect,  breathing, 
and  throbbing  with  life. 

In  this  the  mother-heart  was  wise,  for  during  those 
few  years  there  in  the  country  he  had  already  acquired 
a  rich  amount  of  that  superior  stamina  and  mental 
caliber  that  makes  the  stuff  which  rises  to  the  top 
in  all  vocations  of  life.  He  already  possessed  a  peculiar 
quality  of  superiority  which  would  later  be  a  power- 
ful factor  in  the  shaping  of  a  nation's  destiny  per- 


158  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

haps.  There  was  within  him  a  sufficient  hunger  for 
knowledge  that  would  stimulate  him  to  self-educa- 
tion. He  was  ever  athirst  for  learning,  having  a 
peculiar  yearning  to  know  the  history  of  men  and 
women  who  had  made  a  nation,  to  know  the  history 
of  his  country,  and  above  all,  he  had  that  all-absorbent 
ambition  to  be  somebody  in  the  world.  At  that 
moment  the  heart  of  this  mother,  coming  into  full 
realization  of  the  bigness  of  her  charge,  arose  out  of 
her  condition  of  perplexity  and  doubt,  and  stood 
ready  to  take  up  her  burden. 

She  began  by  first  setting  the  house  in  order — 
making  those  thousand  little  touches  of  taste  that 
were  needed  to  drive  the  darkness  out  of  the  corners 
and  the  stiffness  and  gloom  out  of  the  house.  She 
cleaned  and  polished  the  dim  lamp,  cooked  a  simple 
and  appetizing  supper,  and  sat  down  with  her  boy 
to  a  table  spread  with  a  snow-white  linen  cloth. 

Jean,  with  a  peculiar  understanding  of  his  mother's 
sudden  show  of  bravery,  looked  at  her  across  the 
table  with  eyes  which  worshiped,  eloquent  with 
promise  of  fulfillment. 

They  chatted  pleasantly  over  their  frugal  meal 
until  a  knock  on  the  door  caused  a  look  of  fright  to 
leap  into  Mrs.  Richter's  eyes.  Instantly  both  mother 
and  son  leaped  to  their  feet. 

Again  the  knock. 

Jean  started  forward,  but  the  mother  sprang 
ahead  of  him,  and  instinctively  putting  herself  in 
front  of  her  child,  she  opened  the  door. 

"Miss  Grace!"  Jean  sprang  forward,  his  young 
face  beaming  his  pleasure  while  with  due  courtesy 
he  greeted  his  beloved  lady. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  159 

"Come  in,  uncle!"  called  out  Miss  Grace  to  the 
waiting  gentleman  outside.  The  light  faded  from 
the  faces  of  both  mother  and  son  when  they  saw 
Lawyer  Anderson.  A  vague  fear  filled  Mrs.  Richter's 
breast,  while  complete  wonder  overwhelmed  the 
child. 

''Mrs.  Richter,  this  is  my  uncle,  Lawyer  Ander- 
son." 

With  her  characteristic  regal  dignity,  Mrs.  Richter 
greeted  Lawyer  Anderson,  never  for  a  moment  losing 
sight  of  the  fact  that  the  gentleman's  keen  eyes  were 
in  constant  scrutiny  of  her  young  son. 

One  glance  at  the  youth,  whose  magnetic  per- 
sonality was  intangible,  had  sent  a  peculiar  thrill 
through  the  man's  heart,  causing  him  to  experience 
a  sense  of  relief,  as  if  a  great  weight  which  pressed 
upon  him  had  been  suddenly  removed.  Miss  Grace's 
perceptive  genius  quickly  understood  the  apprehen- 
sion in  the  mother's  eyes,  so,  very  tactfully,  she  made 
known  to  her  the  object  of  their  visit.  Lawyer  An- 
derson also  explained  to  her  the  kind  of  work  he 
would  give  her  son,  for  which  he  promised  to  pay  a 
liberal  salary,  to  be  increased  as  the  boy's  efficiency 
should  merit  such.  He  also  made  known  his  inten- 
tion of  providing  for  Jean's  private  education. 
Gradually  the  mother's  fear  and  timidity  vanished 
and  she  was  able  to  converse  with  ease  and  confi- 
dence, while  her  heart  swelled  with  gratitude  to 
these  two  good  people  whom  God  had  sent  in  the 
very  hour  of  her  sorest  need.  The  fact  that  she 
would  have  her  boy  with  her  during  those  hours 
when  he  would  not  be  at  work  was  very  pleasing  to 
her. 


160  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

Miss  Grace,  with  her  wonderful  understanding  of 
human  nature,  did  not  think  of  urging  removal 
from  their  quiet  cabin  home,  but  was  already  laying 
secret  plans  to  help  this  noble  woman  to  make  this 
humble  spot  a  home — a  sanctuary  of  love,  filled  with 
that  subtle  and  powerful  spirit  which  affords  inspira- 
tion to  the  heart,  comfort  and  contentment  to  the 
restless  spirit. 

"What  is  your  opinion  of  my  friends?"  asked 
Miss  Grace,  as  they  pursued  their  way  home. 

"They  are  unusual,"  said  her  uncle,  thought- 
fully. "The  boy  has  great  ability,  which  is  strik- 
ingly revealed  in  his  charming  personality. 

"And  the  mother?" 

"She  is  very  beautiful  and  queenly." 

"So  beautiful,"  said  Miss  Grace,  "that  one 
would  dread  to  think  of  her  leaving  that  quiet  country 
home  where  she  can  be  so  sheltered  from  the  cruel 
unkindness  of  the  foolish  society  people  here  within 
New  Gate.  And  she  is  as  good  as  she  is  beautiful, 
yet  there  is  about  her  nothing  stiff  and  narrow  or 
what  you  might  call  Puritanic,  except  it  be  the  purity 
of  her  heart  and  life.  I  would  be  the  last  to  take  her 
away  from  her  quiet,  simple  manner  of  living.  Her 
greatest  ambition  is  to  see  Jean  properly  educated; 
and  she  shall  have  her  heart's  desire,  uncle." 

Mr.  Anderson  watched  with  some  curiosity  the 
process  of  Jean's  development.  For  the  first  few 
weeks  his  employer  left  him  very  much  to  himself, 
exacting  implicit  obedience,  but  taking  care  to  issue 
but  few  commands.  He  also  established  and  in- 
creased his  influence  over  him  by  showing  interest 
in  all  his  concerns,  and  at  times  treating  him  with 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  161 

affection,  which  bound  the  boy  to  him  as  nothing 
else  could  have  done. 

Jean  was  awed  by  the  great  wisdom  of  his  em- 
ployer, and  fascinated  by  his  brilliant  conversation, 
in  which  he  was  not  yet  able  to  take  part,  for  he  was 
as  yet  only  in  that  pleasant  borderland  where,  with 
suspended  judgment  and  ready  observation,  it  was 
his  part  to  listen  and  learn  and  study,  and  to  hold 
his  tongue,  regarding  it  as  a  positive  duty  to  keep 
his  own  opinions  to  himself,  or  when  questioned,  to 
put  them  forward  with  all  due  modesty  and  confes- 
sion of  ignorance.  This  trait  of  his  endeared  him  to 
Mr.  Anderson  all  the  more;  and  that  gentleman  was 
never  so  happy  as  when  the  boy  began  to  rely  less 
on  books  and  more  on  him  for  interest  and  com- 
panionship. 

Many  weeks  passed:  still  the  hearts  and  hands 
of  America's  patriotic  sons  and  daughters  applied 
diligently  to  the  task  of  adhering  strictly  to  every 
command  from  Washington  pertaining  to  the  econ- 
omy of  time,  labor,  money,  or  food.  In  the  mean- 
time America's  curse  kept  up  its  ruthless  waste, 
snatching  its  loaf  of  bread  a  day  from  15,000,000 
American  families  and  handing  them  in  exchange 
complete  ruin  to  both  body  and  soul,  while  at  the 
same  time  it  continued  to  gloat  over  the  swiftness 
and  certainty  with  which  it  would  wreck  the  whole 
land:  continued  to  mock  at  the  hollow  hope  of  the 
American  people  for  democracy  in  truth — for  peace, 
happiness,  and  freedom  for  themselves  and  their 
children  when  the  nation's  struggle  should  be  at  an 
end. 

All  during  these  times  Jean  continued  to  grow 


162  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE? 

more  and  more  in  both  physical  and  mental  strength. 
As  even  in  their  sports  children  seem  to  be  aware  of 
the  events  which  agitate  the  outer  world,  so  in  the 
quiet  of  his  life  of  employment  and  study  Jean  could 
not  fail  to  be  aware  of  the  great  national  struggle 
going  on,  nor  could  he  fail  to  take  keen  interest  in  it. 
Life  seemed  to  grow  bigger,  and  he  became  growingly 
conscious  that  there  was  much  indeed  to  learn.  He 
had  come  into  the  realization  that  there  is  a  living 
history  which  can  be  daily  and  hourly  studied — a 
history  in  which  we  all  have  a  share,  our  infinitesimal 
yet  priceless  share  of  influence  and  responsibility. 

Therefore  the  lad  was  very  watchful  lest  he  should 
do  something  that  might  in  the  least  destroy  the 
beautiful  confidence  which  his  dearly  loved  Miss 
Grace  and  her  uncle  placed  in  him.  Not  that  he  was 
one  of  those  pale,  soft,  girlish  youths  with  a  long 
face  and  mushy  timidity,  which  is  disgusting;  but 
he  was  a  strong,  vigorous,  natural  country  boy,  full 
of  self-reliance,  energy,  and  grit,  sound  judgment 
and  pure  nature,  which  recoiled  from  anything  that 
weakens,  impairs,  or  pollutes  the  human  mind  and 
body. 

Somehow  he  felt  a  secret  consciousness  that  he 
was  in  a  great  measure  contributing  to  Miss  Grace's 
effort  in  providing  the  reading  public  with  facts 
taken  directly  from  life — facts  which  could  not  fail 
to  show  what  great  possibilities  there  are  for  Young 
America,  provided  the  country  can  be  rid  of  those 
polluting  evils  of  society,  the  greatest  of  which  is 
alcohol. 

In  this  he  was  correct,  for  he  was  indeed  the  in- 
spirer  of  all  that  was  best  and  true  in  her  writings. 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  163 

His  exalted  sense  of  truth  and  right,  his  strict  ad- 
herence to  all  that  was  noble,  and  marked  abhorrence 
for  the  ignoble,  were  her  strongest  incitement.  With 
her  hand  clasped  in  the  warm,  strong  hand  of  this 
son  of  lowly  birth  but  most  exalted  principle,  she  was 
able  to  put  into  her  articles  knowledge  of  facts  ex- 
emplified. Through  him  she  was  able  to  throttle  the 
furies  whose  accursed  fingers  clutched  at  Young 
America  in  order  to  destroy. 

Mr.  Anderson  watched  with  increasing  interest 
and  pride  the  unconscious  growth  and  development 
of  both  his  loved  ones.  He  was  aware  of  the  immense 
pleasure  which  his  niece  found  in  her  work  of  useful- 
ness. She  was  forever  busy,  working  in  the  various 
well-organized  clubs,  in  the  church,  in  everything 
which  pertained  to  the  improvement  of  the  city. 
All  during  those  weeks  in  which  she  worked  so  as- 
siduously, so  efficiently,  she  was  unconsciously 
drawing  from  the  faithfulness  of  her  work,  from  the 
grand  spirit  which  she  carried  into  it,  the  high  pur- 
pose which  emanated  from  her  in  its  performance, 
a  recompense  so  munificent  that  her  countenance 
lost  a  great  amount  of  its  wistful  longing  for  all  that 
she  had  lost  in  life — those  joys  which  might  have 
been.  Her  work  constantly  enabled  her  to  gain  in 
much  valuable  experience,  in  fine  training,  in  increased 
efficiency,  in  splendid  discipline,  in  self-expression, 
and  in  the  strengthening  of  her  beautiful  character. 
From  time  to  time  newspaper  articles  appeared  in 
most  glowing  praise  of  this  young  woman's  work  and 
beautiful  patriotic  spirit. 

One  afternoon  Miss  Grace  was  busily  engaged  in 
looking  over  a  great  stack  of  registration  cards  for 


164  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

the  Woman's  Home  Committee — Council  of  National 
Defense.  There  was  a  smile  of  satisfaction  upon  her 
face  as  she  noted  the  great  number  of  these  cards 
signed  by  the  patriotic  women  of  the  city.  A  ray  of 
sunshine  stole  through  the  fluttering  curtain  and 
made  golden  ripples  upon  the  floor.  Upon  the  table 
there  lay  a  magazine — a  special  copy  of  an  American 
periodical  renowned  for  the  lofty  tone  of  its  articles, 
the  asperity  of  its  criticisms,  the  wholesomeness  and 
cleanliness  of  its  fiction.  Within  this  copy  there  was 
an  article  written  by  Miss  Grace.  This  article, 
which  was  the  first  of  hers  to  be  published  in  this 
magazine,  had  been  read  with  avidity  by  people  all 
over  the  country.  In  it  she  had  aimed  an  effective 
blow  at  alcoholism. 

Presently,  the  cards  finished,  she  settled  herself 
in  her  comfortable  "thinking  chair,"  as  she  called  it, 
and  surrendered  herself  to  a  few  moments  of  reverie. 
Such  moments  were  almost  invariably  spent  in  work- 
ing out  some  plan  or  perfecting  some  philanthropic 
scheme,  or  mental  scrutiny  of  a  charitable  project. 
But  this  evening  her  mind  dwelt  upon  recent  occur- 
rences which  marked  rapid  progress  toward  the 
secret  goal  of  her  heart's  desire — national  prohi- 
bition. 

Within  the  last  few  months  America  had  learned 
the  lesson  that  alcohol  could  not  be  tolerated  among 
the  men  who  were  engaged  in  the  death  struggle  for 
liberty.  This  lesson  no  doubt  had  been  doubly  en- 
forced by  America  having  witnessed  the  spectacle  of 
Russia  abolishing  vodga,  France  suppressing  ab- 
sinthe, and  England  grappling  with  its  beer  problem. 
The  lesson  had  been  enforced  to  the  extent  that  the 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  165 

people  of  America  agreed  with  the  Government  in 
its  decision  to  make  it  a  punishable  offense  to  sell 
liquor  to  the  soldiers.  And  now  the  constant  cry  of 
the  prohibitionists  to  down  the  liquor  interest  and 
save  the  nation's  grain  made  it  imperative  that 
Congress  consider  a  bill  which  would  make  it  un- 
lawful for  any  person,  firm,  or  corporation  to  use  in 
the  manufacture  of  any  intoxicating  liquor  for  bev- 
erage purpose  any  perishable  or  non-perishable  feeds, 
foods,  or  food  materials. 

As  Miss  Grace  reviewed  the  summary  of  the  ad- 
vance toward  the  overthrow  of  her  most  hated 
enemy,  suddenly  a  glory  illumined  the  future.  The 
vision  caught  and  held  her  in  a  fascinating  reverie 
in  which  she  beheld  much  of  the  world's  darkness 
dispelled  by  sunshine,  sorrow  dispelled  by  happiness, 
that  which  is  base  and  low  and  deceitful  displaced  by 
the  lofty  and  the  true;  those  things  which  breed  filth 
and  unrighteousness  displaced  by  those  things  which 
beget  cleanliness  and  righteousness:  the  fathers  of 
little  children  returned  from  haunts  of  vice  and  crime, 
back  to  the  shrine  of  prayer  at  their  own  hearthstone ; 
womanhood,  the  glory  of  America,  made  divine  by 
the  halo  of  faithful  wifehood  and  sacred  motherhood; 
manhood,  the  pride  of  America,  purified  and  exalted 
by  strength  of  intellect  and  depth  of  moral  char- 
acter; youth,  the  hope  of  America,  vigorous,  superbly 
equipped  with  physical  and  mental  strength  which 
characterizes  the  youth  who  is  destined  to  do  great 
and  worthy  things  in  the  world — youth  endowed 
with  great  beauty,  not  superficial  beauty,  but  heart 
beauty,  soul  beauty,  which  marks  the  spirit  of  kind- 
ness, helpfulness,  and  unselfishness — youth,  possessed 


166  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

with  character  of  the  superior  sort  which  develops 
into  undefiled  manhood  and  womanhood. 

Thus  Miss  Grace  beheld  the  future  in  a  dazzling 
glory  which  lured  and  charmed.  Reluctant  to  part 
from  the  vision,  she  sat  and  dreamed  on  until  eve- 
ning and  mellow  sunset  filled  the  world  with  a  last 
glory  ere  the  darkness  set  in.  A  knock  on  the  door 
startled  her  from  her  reverie.  What  could  be  more 
pleasant  than  a  visit  from  her  uncle  and  Jean.  There 
was  a  certain  youthfulness  about  her  uncle  as  he 
came  into  the  room.  This  pleased  the  young  lady 
very  much,  and  she  marked  the  growing  friendship 
between  the  man  and  boy  with  increasing  interest 
and  pleasure.  Their  friendship  proved  of  immense 
benefit  to  both.  Under  her  uncle's  guidance  Jean 
was  growing  rapidly,  both  mentally  and  physically, 
and  to  a  keen  observer  nothing  is  more  fascinating 
than  to  watch  this  sort  of  growth.  In  the  anxieties 
of  the  national  struggles  at  that  time  Mr.  Anderson 
was  able  to  interest  himself  keenly  through  the 
frequent  contact  with  a  young,  fresh,  vigorous  mind 
feeling  its  way  into  greater  things. 

The  evening  was  most  pleasantly  spent.  Her 
uncle  and  Jean's  visit  to  her  home  being  of  limited 
frequency  made  those  visits  all  the  more  pleasurable. 
They  usually  came  together  at  those  times  when 
Miss  Grace's  parents  were  absent,  for  neither  of  the 
two  proud  people  could  become  quite  reconciled  to 
their  daughter's  and  brother's  intimacy  with  "com- 
mon folks,"  as  they  called  Jean  and  his  mother. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  advance  toward  national  prohibition  was 
destined  to  make  another  stride  in  a  very  short 
while.  As  soon  as  the  law  was  passed  making  it  a 
punishable  offense  to  sell  liquor  to  the  soldiers,  the 
prohibitionist  commenced  ^to  urge  the  fact  that 
what  is  bad  for  the  soldiers  is  bad  for  all  American 
citizens,  whether  they  are  soldiers  or  not.  Once 
started  in  this  direction,  the  whole  temperance  force 
combined  to  keep  up  the  agitation,  nor  did  they 
languish  in  the  least  until  Congress  passed  a  resolu- 
tion embodying  an  amendment  to  the  Constitution 
which,  if  ratified  by  the  separate  States,  would  pro- 
hibit the  manufacture,  sale,  transportation,  impor- 
tation, or  exportation  of  all  alcoholic  beverages. 
The  Constitution  itself  provided  that  such  an  amend- 
ment must  be  ratified  by  three-fourths  of  the  States 
by  legislative  action,  and  the  congressional  amend- 
ment gave  them  seven  years  in  which  to  make  this 
ratification,  stating  that  the  amendment  should  take 
effect  one  year  after  its  ratification. 

At  last  the  great  issue  was  transferred  from 
Congress  and  made  to  become  an  issue  on  which  the 
people  should  have  an  opportunity  to  express  their 
will.  Although  the  passing  of  this  amendment 
marked  one  of  the  most  effective  legislative  actions 
in  the  whole  history  of  the  temperance  movement,  it 
served  to  create  a  new  issue  which  would  bring  to 
exercise  the  will  and  mind  of  the  American  people  to 
their  fullest  extent. 

167 


168  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

The  passing  of  such  an  amendment  raised  a  new 
issue  in  every  one  of  the  forty-eight  States. 

"Uncle,"  said  Miss  Grace  one  day  while  they 
were  discussing  the  subject,  "this  places  a  double 
duty  upon  us — brings  us  face  to  face  with  both  our 
enemies,  imposing  upon  the  American  people  a  double 
duty  which  means:  conducting  the  forty-eight  cam- 
paigns on  prohibition,  and  seeing  the  war  against 
Germany  victorious." 

"There  is  one  thing  which  may  aid  in  this  two- 
fold duty,"  said  her  uncle,  thoughtfully;  "if  the 
States  can  be  made  to  see  in  the  ratification  of  the 
amendment  an  opportunity  to  aid  in  the  war,  they 
can  also  be  made  to  see  that  promptness  in  ratifica- 
tion is  essential  to  that  end." 

"This  is  the  great  work  which  must  be  done," 
said  the  young  woman,  earnestly.  "As  the  thing 
stands  now,  national  prohibition  is  not  effective  in 
the  least,  for  such  a  resolution  does  not  close  a  single 
saloon,  nor  does  it  render  the  sale  of  liquor  illegal. 
O,  uncle!  Somebody's  got  to  fight  this  thing  to  a 
finish.  I'm  certainly  going  to  do  my  part." 

"It  is  going  to  be  a  great  fight,  my  daughter — 
one  that  will  require  statesmanship  and  leadership  of 
the  very  highest  order,  to  be  able  to  carry  on  the 
prohibition  amendment  campaign  and  at  the  same 
time  refrain  from  detracting  the  people's  interest  from 
their  great  duty  of  helping  to  terminate  this  war  suc- 
cessfully." 

"I  believe,  uncle,  that  our  State  can  be  made  the 
very  first  to  ratify  the  amendment." 

"You  are  thinking  chiefly  of  New  Gate  and  the 
rapid  stride  she  has  made  toward  high  idealism;  but 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  169 

remember  that  New  Gate  is  but  a  very  small  portion 
of  the  State." 

"Yes,  I  do  remember  that,  uncle,  but  I  also 
realize  that  her  influence  is  vastly  more  far-reaching 
than  her  territory.  How  is  Jean  these  days?"  she 
asked,  remembering  that  she  had  not  seen  the  lad 
in  several  days. 

"That  boy  has  no  equal.  I  am  proud  of  him, 
Grace.  A  father  could  not  be  more  proud." 

"Anyone  looking  at  that  handsome  boy,  bearing 
all  the  marks  of  good  parentage,  with  those  strong 
features  and  that  refined  and  sensitive  nature,  would 
never  dream  that  his  father  was  who  he  was,  would 
they?"  asked  Miss  Grace.  "It  is  for  his  sake  and 
all  like  him  that  I  am  determined  to  keep  up  this 
fight  for  national  prohibiton  complete." 

During  all  these  years  the  editor  of  the  Hollyville 
Sentinel,  who,  immediately  after  the  death  of  John 
Drew,  wrote  the  editorial,  "Who  Is  Responsible?" 
had  adhered  strictly  to  his  promise  that  so  long  as 
the  liquor  evil  should  exist  in  America  he  would 
never  fail  to  use  the  columns  of  his  paper  in  denunci- 
ation of  it.  Numerous  and  forceful  had  been  those 
articles,  in  which  the  author  took  the  most  radical 
stand  in  favor  of  prohibition.  Therefore,  when  the 
prohibition  amendment  was  passed,  and  his  State  was 
the  very  first  to  ratify  it,  he  could  not  help  but  feel 
a  secret  satisfaction  in  the  knowledge  that  he  had 
been  most  faithful  to  his  promise.  He  also  had  the 
secret  belief  that  the  relentless  fight  which  he  had 
carried  on  through  his  paper  was  largely  responsible 
for  the  prompt  ratification  by  his  State, 

There  was  great  rejoicing  over  the  State's  action, 


170  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE? 

and  the  pages  of  the  Sentinel  were  eloquent  in  praise 
of  the  people  for  taking  the  lead  in  the  final  stride 
for  national  prohibition.  The  Sentinel  paid  special 
tribute  to  the  faithful  activity  of  the  pastor  of  the 
church  where  the  Drews  had  worshiped.  Since  the 
death  of  John  Drew,  this  minister  had  striven  to 
make  his  entire  church  a  solidified,  active,  aggressive, 
and  obedient  unit  in  the  warfare  on  intemperance. 
He  had  been  most  successful  in  this  attempt,  for 
total  abstinence  in  its  membership  had  been  the 
result. 

To  Dr.  Morris,  the  old  family  physician  of  the 
Drews,  it  also  paid  a  glowing  tribute  for  the  manner 
in  which  he  had  faithfully  established  the  facts  that, 
contrary  to  the  general  belief,  alcohol  has  a  very 
small  place  in  medicine:  that  alcohol  when  taken 
into  the  system  acts  as  a  definite  poison  to  the  brain 
and  other  tissues,  and  that  the  effects  of  this  poison 
are  directly  or  indirectly  responsible  for  the  greater 
portion  of  the  insane,  epileptic,  feeble-minded,  and 
many  other  forms  of  mental,  moral,  and  physical 
degeneracy :  that  either  as  a  food  or  as  a  drug,  alcohol 
is  of  no  service,  and  that  it  is  a  virulent  poison  which 
should  be  placed  on  the  list  with  arsenic,  mercury, 
and  other  dangerous  drugs,  and  that  a  system  of 
legislation  should  be  enacted  whereby  the  sale  and 
use  of  alcohol  should  be  prevented  and  prohibited. 

Although  their  State  had  been  the  first  to  ratify 
the  amendment,  the  prohibitionists  of  Hollyville  did 
not  consider  their  work  ended.  They  realized  that 
they  had  only  made  a  very  effective  beginning  in 
the  fight.  Therefore,  for  the  purpose  of  discussing 
plans  which  might  prove  beneficial  in  conducting  a 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  171 

further  campaign,  they  appointed  a  meeting,  to 
which  they  invited  Lawyer  Anderson,  Miss  Grace 
King,  and  several  others  from  New  Gate  and  other 
towns  and  cities. 

"Our  safety  lies  in  going  forward,"  wrote  the 
editor  of  the  Sentinel.  "If  we  stop  now,  we  stand  in 
danger  of  losing  all  we  have  gained." 

The  day  before  Miss  Grace  was  to  leave  for 
Hollyville  was  so  beautiful  that  she  decided  to  run 
out  to  Peace  Villa  (the  name  which  Jean  had  given 
their  dear  home  up  in  the  woods)  and  see  Mrs. 
Richter.  The  faintest  trace  of  approaching  spring 
was  in  the  air,  and  as  she  went  along  the  path  she 
thought  of  that  very  first  day,  years  ago,  when  her 
wandering  footsteps  had  led  her  to  discover  the 
little  hut  and  its  interesting  family.  She  recalled 
how  the  cabin  had  sprung  into  view  at  the  sudden 
turn  of  the  road  a  few  yards  ahead.  Her  heart 
leaped  in  exultation  when  she  thought  of  what  that 
turn  in  the  road  would  reveal  to  her  to-day.  She 
quickened  her  pace  in  order  to  gain  sight  of  the 
house,  and  at  the  proper  angle  it  leaped  into  view 
and  seemed  to  beckon  her  with  a  triumphant  smile 
of  welcome. 

"It  is  perfect!"  she  breathed  while  she  stood 
watching  it  nestled  there  among  clinging  vines  and 
hardy  shrubbery — amidst  a  sort  of  peaceful  repose 
which  seemed  ever  to  rest  like  a  benediction  upon  it. 

An  intense  desire  burned  within  her  heart — a 
deep  yearning  for  a  house  like  that,  on  the  edge  of 
something  that  was  grand  and  close  to  nature — 
something  wonderful  yet  real. 


172  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE? 

"Spring  in  such  a  house  would  be  divine,"  she 
whispered.  "Spring — a  husband  and  little  children 
to  toddle  in  the  dear  little  path  cutting  its  way  so 
cleanly  through  the  velvet  grass — children  to  romp 
on  the  level  stretch  of  lawn  at  the  foot  of  the  sloping 
background  of  low  hills  and  graceful  trees." 

She  could  almost  see  the  riot  of  color  in  the 
darling  garden  in  front  of  the  house — a  profusion  of 
yellow  jonquils,  crocuses,  violets,  and  lilacs;  and 
sweet,  sweet  roses ;  the  hundreds  of  little  wild  beauties 
upon  the  lawns;  the  gleam  of  white  dogwood  blos- 
soms among  the  trees  in  the  background.  With  a 
little  catch  of  breath  she  suddenly  clasped  one  hand 
over  her  left  side  to  soothe  the  ache  of  longing  in  her 
heart,  then  went  on  up  to  the  house. 

Joy  swept  over  her  when  the  door  opened  and 
Jean's  beautiful  mother  stood  there  with  a  smile  of 
welcome.  "O,  if  more  dear  mothers  could  be  like 
that!"  was  Miss  Grace's  inward  thought,  and  she 
looked  lovingly  at  this  woman  so  beautifully  endowed 
with  purity,  intelligence,  simplicity  of  manner,  and 
dignity  of  bearing — in  fact,  was  all  that  a  perfect 
mother  should  be.  What  a  wonderful  woman — to 
have  maintained  her  loveliness,  her  superior  intelli- 
gence in  spite  of  the  wilderness  of  trials  through 
which  she  had  struggled;  who  had  not  allowed 
poverty  nor  social  standing  to  paralyze  her  ambition 
to  improve  herself  in  every  way  she  could,  so  that 
now  she  was  able  to  surround  her  home  with  an 
atmosphere  of  refinement,  culture,  and  purity. 

"I  was  expecting  you  to-day,"  she  said  in  her 
charming,  soft  voice.  "Jean  is  away  just  now — off 
down  yonder  somewhere,"  she  continued,  pointing 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  173 

toward  a  long  stretch  of  deep,  cool  woods.  "Spring 
is  in  the  air,  and  he's  sure  to  find  the  first  violet — he 
always  does." 

"I  wonder  if  there's  any  place  on  earth  half  so 
beautiful  as  this,"  said  Miss  Grace,  as  she  went 
about  from  room  to  room  and  noted  the  exquisite 
taste  which  made  the  whole  interior  of  the  house  a 
sort  of  alluring  personality.  The  place  was  indeed 
lovely — not  with  the  cold,  soulless  elegance  abound- 
ing in  high-priced  furniture,  fine  paintings,  rare  col- 
lections of  art  in  the  form  of  artful  nudities;  but 
clean,  chaste,  simple  elegance,  such  as  intelligence 
and  refinement  can  impart  to  the  most  humble  cabin 
— a  radiance  of  beauty  which  a  rich  and  noble  spirit 
will  cast  over  the  humblest  home,  regardless  to  situ- 
ation— a  perfection  which  the  upholsterer  and  deco- 
rator can  never  approach. 

A  deep  thankfulness  filled  the  young  woman's 
heart.  She  felt  that  having  restored  peace  and 
happiness  to  this  good  woman  was  a  sort  of  repara- 
tion for  some  of  those  thoughtless,  frivolous  actions 
of  her  own  girlhood.  What  a  blessed  thing  it  was 
to  be  able  to  bring  sunshine  instead  of  shadows  to 
the  lives  of  people! 

Miss  Grace  was  very  proud  of  Jean,  loving  him 
as  a  young  brother.  Indeed,  the  youth  was  one  to 
be  proud  of  and  worthy  of  anybody's  love  and  ad- 
miration. Everybody  liked  him  who  knew  him. 
The  people  of  New  Gate  had  almost  abandoned  the 
habit  of  looking  at  him  askance  because  of  his  lowly 
birth.  They  liked  him  because  he  was  original  and 
not  quite  like  the  rest  of  the  world:  fresh  and  un- 
spoiled, superior  in  intellect,  but  void  of  the  smallest 


174  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

particle  of  conceit.  Many  of  them  were  sometimes 
amazed  how  he  would  dexterously  avoid  doing  any- 
thing which  was  low  and  mean,  and  how  he  religiously 
strove  to  merit  the  goodwill,  confidence,  and  ap- 
proval of  his  employer,  whom  he  reverenced;  and 
how  above  all  he  loved  Miss  Grace  King  and  adored 
his  sweet  mother. 

In  spite  of  Jean's  youth,  he  had  already  begun 
to  show  keen  interest  in  the  affairs  of  the  nation. 
His  interest  in  political  events  was  growing  so  keen 
and  strong  that  it  was  no  longer  possible  to  remain 
silent.  When  he  returned  from  his  ramble  in  the 
woods  and  found  his  beloved  Miss  Grace  there  with 
his  mother,  the  fact  pleased  him  very  much.  But 
there  was  an  air  of  perplexed  gravity  about  the  boy 
which  Miss  Grace  did  not  fail  to  notice.  Perhaps 
his  passion  for  books  and  reading  was  being  over- 
indulged. 

"Jean,  what  are  you  reading  these  days?"  she 
asked,  noticing  the  magazine  he  had  in  his  hand  and 
had  evidently  been  reading. 

He  handed  it  to  her,  saying  as  he  did  so:  "Miss 
Grace,  this  is  a  very  great  country  in  which  we 
live.  I'm  intensely  interested  in  the  splendid  spirit 
of  devotion  and  self-sacrifice  the  people  of  this 
country  are  exhibiting  in  this  time  of  national  trial. 
It  makes  me  regret  that  I  am  not  more  advanced  in 
years  so  that  I  might  have  a  hand  in  my  country's 
fight  for  humanity  and  right." 

"My  son  has  been  regretting  his  years  very  much 
of  late,"  said  Mrs.  Richter.  "He,  like  the  rest  of  us, 
is  very  anxious  to  'do  his  bit.'  He  has  already 
bought  a  Liberty  Bond,  and  now  his  patriotic  young 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  175 

soul  is  seeking  broader  avenues  of  usefulness  to  his 
country." 

Miss  Grace  went  to  the  dear  boy  and,  placing 
both  her  hands  on  his  broad  young  shoulders,  said: 
1  'Jean,  dear,  you  are  doing  more  for  your  country 
than  you  realize.  Every  day  you  are  making  your- 
self an  example  of  what  young  America  should  be. 
Every  day  of  your  life  you  are  paying  a  magnificent 
compliment  to  America's  effort  to  produce  ideal, 
capable,  efficient  men,  who  are  to  hold  the  highest 
places  in  the  future — men  whose  principles  of  right, 
honest,  lofty  idealism  shall  create  a  new  era  when 
this  war  is  ended.  You  are  demonstrating  to  the 
world  what  sober  America  can  be.  Ah!  be  satisfied 
that  in  this  you  are  'doing  your  bit'!" 

The  young  woman  was  not  mistaken  in  saying 
this,  for  the  coming  years  would  prove  the  truth  of 
her  statement,  when  this  boy,  born  under  the  curse 
of  America's  greatest  evil,  but  liberated  and  reared 
in  the  blessed  atmosphere  of  sobriety  and  purity, 
should  become  a  man  of  whom  America  would  be 
most  proud  because  of  being  able  to  boast  of  him  as 
one  of  the  grandest  combinations  of  heart,  conscience, 
and  brain  beneath  her  flag.  And  it  would  become 
the  proud  boast  of  New  Gate  that  this  leader  of  men, 
whose  spotless  character  had  become  the  dowry  of 
the  nation,  snatched  the  name  of  Jean  Richter, 
which  alcohol  trailed  in  the  dust,  and  made  of  it  a 
name  ever  to  be  remembered,  loved,  and  honored. 

The  meeting  at  Hollyville  proved  to  be  most  in- 
teresting. It  was  well  attended  by  prohibitionists 
from  all  over  the  State,  and  many  from  adjoining 
States.  In  all  the  Southland  there  has  never  been  a 


176  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

more  effective  meeting  of  its  kind.  It  proved  to  be 
most  beneficial  in  that  it  gave  those  who  attended 
the  opportunity  to  form  into  an  effective  unit  for 
the  grand  purpose  of  making  a  final  and  successful 
warfare  against  the  liquor  industry  in  America. 

A  few  weeks  after  this  meeting  there  appeared  in 
one  of  the  leading  magazines  of  the  country  an  article 
written  by  Miss  Grace  King.  This  article,  in  which 
her  purest  thought,  her  holiest  aspirations,  her 
grandest  and  noblest  spirit  of  patriotism  were  ex- 
pressed, was  prized  by  the  prohibitionists  of  America 
as  among  the  most  effective  factors  in  the  final  vic- 
tory. 

Ruthlessly  she  assaulted  America's  pet,  soft- 
footed,  velvet-masked  folly  of  society,  demanding 
that  all  intelligent  Christian  citizens  pause  in  their 
headlong  career,  then  decide  once  for  all  whether  a 
God-fearing  nation,  under  the  white  banner  of  the 
Christian  religion,  would  further  tolerate  this  mortal 
enemy  of  peace  and  order,  this  despoiler  of  all  that  is 
best  in  man. 

The  following  paragraphs  of  her  article  made  a 
fitting  and  effective  closing: 

"The  time  has  come  at  last  when  the  great  ques- 
tion, 'WHO  IS  RESPONSIBLE  FOR  THE  LIQUOR  EVIL?' 

hangs  in  letters  of  scarlet  before  the  eyes  of  every 
American  citizen,  and  the  long-standing  issue  must 
be  settled  once  for  all — NOW! 

"The  world  no  longer  remains  blind  to  facts  con- 
cerning alcohol — facts  too  often  vindicated  by  living 
examples,  and  facts  which  have  been  proven  beyond 
doubt.  The  world  knows  that  greater  calamities  are 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE?  177 

inflicted  on  mankind  by  intemperance  than  by  any 
other  scourge.  Facts  to  prove  this  have  been  dis- 
covered, reported,  and  established  beyond  all  con- 
troversy. 

"For  these,  if  for  no  other  reasons,  the  American 
people  must  eradicate  this  evil;  and,  in  view  of  the 
fact  that  no  attempt  to  regulate  it  has  been  suc- 
cessful, the  only  thing  which  remains  to  be  done  is 
to  eradicate  the  evil,  root  and  branch.  For  so  long 
as  it  exists,  all  classes  are  in  danger  of  becoming  its 
victims.  It  is  an  evil  genius  which  may  bring  the 
most  exalted  down  to  wallow  in  filth  and  rags. 

"But  there  are  still  other  reasons  why  America 
should  no  longer  tolerate  the  liquor  evil.  Our  coun- 
try is  at  war:  the  eternal  principles  of  justice,  free- 
dom, and  right — those  sacred  ideals  upon  which 
America  was  founded — are  in  jeopardy.  It  is  a  holy 
heritage  that  we  have  been  called  upon  to  defend. 
America  is  now  in  the  struggle  which  means  life  or 
death:  every  American  is  facing  the  supreme  test — 
the  test  of  souls  and  brains.  The  genius  that  does 
not  enlist  for  victory  is  treason.  Wealth  that  is  not 
funded  for  the  great  cause  is  spurious.  Every  Amer- 
ican who  is  not  giving  the  very  best  of  every  ability 
for  the  purpose  of  winning  this  victory  for  humanity 
is  disloyal.  Every  American  mother  who  shrinks 
from  allowing  her  son  to  shoulder  arms  in  defense  of 
freedom  and  honor  is  a  coward.  Every  expenditure 
that  does  not  contribute  to  the  nation's  task  of  win- 
ning the  war  is  CRIMINAL!  Any  industry  that  steels 
itself  against  these  facts,  and  steals  those  vitals 
which  give  life  and  strength  to  the  men  who  are 
engaged  in  the  fight  for  justice  and  clean  hopes  of 


178  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE? 

freedom  and  equal  rights  for  all  men  is  a  THIEF  and 
ROBBER! 

"The  cost  of  the  liquor  industry  to  the  American 
people  may  be  divided  into  two  broad  streams  of 
waste.  Money  spent  for  intoxicating  drinks  is  lost — 
being  money  spent  with  no  profit  received.  The 
poverty,  crime,  insanity,  and  idiocy,  which  is  the 
loss  of  America's  efficiency  and  lives,  is  an  unpardon- 
able, irretrievable  loss.  Statistics  show  that  the 
expenditure  at  retail  for  intoxicating  drinks  in  the 
course  of  one  year  in  the  United  States  is  estimated 
at  from  $124,607,519  to  $2,290,000,000. 

"This  black-handed  dealing  with  the  American 
people  has  been  going  on  for  many  years,  and  these 
facts  represent  money  received  by  that  traffic  and 
that  which  is  worse  than  no  value  returned.  Think 
of  the  enormous  price  we  have  had  to  pay  for  main- 
taining so  corrupt  and  oppressive  trade.  This  foolish 
indulgence  on  the  part  of  Christian  men  and  women 
must  cease! 

"Then,  too,  O  Americans!  behind  this  great  prob- 
lem of  winning  the  war  for  humanity  and  liberty 
stands  the  greater  problem  of  preparing  America 
for  freedom.  Liberty  stands  at  the  risk  of  being 
grossly  misunderstood  by  the  masses,  who  will  attach 
the  narrowest  definition  to  the  term.  America  must 
take  care  lest,  treading  upon  the  heels  of  victory, 
there  shall  come  other  forms  of  oppression;  and 
to-day  there  exists  no  greater  form  of  menace  within 
all  America's  boundary  than  alcoholism. 

"There  is  nothing  that  has  brought  more  corrup- 
tion into  politics  than  alcohol.  Now  is  the  time  to 
pave  the  way,  so  that  in  the  efficiency  of  govern- 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  179 

mental  administration,  America  may  stand  unsur- 
passed: so  that  this  country  may  be  a  land  of  limit- 
less resources  wherein  every  boy  and  girl  under  her 
floating  colors  may  have  equal  chance  to  reach  the 
topmost  round  of  the  ladder  of  prosperity,  power, 
and  honor.  Then,  and  not  until  then,  will  America 
be  restored  to  its  original  great  spirit  of  unity  and 
Christian  brotherhood.  If  we  would  make  this 
country  worth  living  in  when  the  war  is  over  and 
victory  is  ours,  let  the  people  decide — let  the  States 
ratify  the  amendment.  This  thing  must  be  done  if 
we  hope  to  purify  these  avenues  of  peace.  If  drunk- 
enness interferes  with  efficiency  in  war,  will  it  not 
interfere  with  efficiency  in  peace?  When  the  war  is 
ended  and  the  nation's  soldiers  return  from  the  perils 
which  they  have  been  called  upon  to  face  on  land 
and  on  sea,  let  them  not  return  to  find  that  alco- 
holism with  its  mighty  power  stands  waiting  with 
new  opportunities  to  debauch  and  destroy  that  which 
love  and  pride  and  self-sacrifice  have  won  for  them. 
"There  are  some  who  deny  the  evil  which  alcohol 
has  wrought,  and  claim  that  the  sale  of  it  should  not 
be  suppressed  because  of  interfering  with  the  per- 
sonal rights  of  the  individual.  The  'personal  rights' 
plea  is  perhaps  the  strongest  argument  advanced  by 
the  anti-prohibitionists.  The  'personal  rights'  plea  is 
not  only  weak  but  portrays  a  selfishness  that  any 
true  American  wou'd  be  ashamed  of.  The  consid- 
eration of  public  welfare  overshadows  the  rights 
of  an  individual.  Any  man  who  puts  himself  in  a 
position  to  injure  others  in  any  way  ought  to  be  pun- 
ished. Any  industry  or  traffic  which  menaces  society 
should  be  suppressed. 


180  WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ? 

''Is  there  one  who  questions  the  right  of  the 
Government  to  prescribe  wheatless  days  and  meat- 
less days,  and  to  actually  restrict  our  diet  in  order 
that  our  own  and  allied  soldiers  should  be  benefited? 
Do  you  stand  up  and  contend  that,  in  spite  of  our 
soldiers'  needs,  you  will  not  comply  with  the  coun- 
try's request  because  it  interferes  with  your  indi- 
vidual rights?  Such  an  argument  is  just  as  reason- 
able as  the  'personal  rights'  plea  of  the  anti-prohibi- 
tionists. 

"For  the  sake  of  humanity  we  are  engaged  in  a 
great  international  struggle,  and,  for  the  sake  of 
humanity,  we  are  also  engaged  in  a  national  struggle. 
I  pray  that  every  American  will  cease  the  selfish 
clamor  for  individual  rights  long  enough  to  listen  to 
the  appeal  that  humanity  is  making  to  you.  Hear 
the  cries  of  the  children  in  the  tenement  districts  of 
nearly  every  large  city  in  this  country:  they  cry  for 
food,  clothing,  and  shelter;  they  are  children  whose 
fathers  believe  in  exercising  their  personal  rights  to 
the  extent  that  the  greater  portion  of  their  money 
goes  for  drink  instead  of  food  and  raiment. 

"Hear  the  cry  of  the  widow,  who  prays  not  only 
for  the  protection  of  her  country  from  absolutism, 
but  prays  for  the  protection  of  her  boy  from  that 
most  dreaded  curse,  ALCOHOL. 

"This  is  the  supreme  hour;  we  stand  face  to  face 
with  the  Liquor  Demon!  Strike  the  fatal  blow  now, 
lest  in  the  years  to  come  we  find  our  chaste  hopes  of 
liberty  and  freedom  dragged  at  the  chariot  wheels  of 
BACCHUS,  god  of  WINE!" 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  181 

The  future!  Who  can  tell  what  to-morrow  may 
bring  forth?  New  and  better  conditions  are  bound 
to  be  formed  out  of  this  enormous  caldron  in  which 
twenty  nations  are  commingled.  When  we  look 
down  the  vista  of  the  coming  years,  what  a  glory 
breaks  upon  the  vision!  In  it  we  see  national  pro- 
hibition made  sure  and  secure  through  the  ratifica- 
tion of  the  amendment.  Further,  we  see  the  nations' 
crises  passed  and  the  triumph  of  democracy  over 
autocracy.  We  see  America's  sons  returning  from 
the  battlefields  rejoicing  in  the  victory  for  liberty. 
And  we  see  those  valiant  soldiers  who  have  waged 
the  long  warfare  for  temperance  rejoicing  in  the  fact 
that  they  have  won  for  America  national  prohibition 
as  a  crowning  glory  and  a  richest  blessing! 


THE  END. 


P 


